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Works 

of 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 


GIFT  OF 


Catherine  K,  "Wheeler 


C  i   1  ^  C  H  I  S  M 


// 


OF 


NATURAL   THEOLOGY. 


"evert    HOrSE    IS    BtJILDEB    BY    SOME    MAN 
BUT    HE    THAT    BUILT    ALL    THI5GS    IS    COD.' 


BY   I.   NICHOLS,    D.  D. 

PASTOR    OF    THE     FIRST     CHURCH    IK    PORTLAND. 


SECOND    edition: 

WITH     ADDITIONS     AND     IMPROVEMENTS 
\ 


BOSTON: 
PUBLISHED   BY    WILLIAM    HYDE 

1831. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1831,  by 
William  Htde,  in  the  Clerk's  office  of  the  District  Court  of 
Massachusetts. 


GIFT 


PRESS 


OP     C.   S.   D.     &C     B.   r.   ORIFFIZt. 


CATECHISM 

OP 

\ 

\ 

NATURAL    THEOlrOGY 


INTRODUCTION. 

Teacher.  What  do  you  understand  by  Natural 
Theology  ? 

A.  Theology,  derived  from  two  Greek  words  em- 
ployed to  signify  our  knowledge  of  God,  is  divided 
into  two  parts,  natural  and  revealed.  Revealed  the- 
ology embraces  those  extraordinary  discoveries  which 
God  has  made  to  mankind  in  the  holy  scriptures. 
Natural  theology  teaches  what  may  be  known  of 
God,  from  the  manifestations  of  his  existence  and 
perfections  in  the  natural  world. 

T.  What  do  the  scriptures  observe  respecting 
natural  theology  ? 

A.  While  the  scriptures  principally  require  us  to 
know  God,  as  he  has  revealed  himself  to  us  in  his  di- 

*^    421 


6  INTRODUCTION. 

vine  word,  they  also  require  us  to  contemplate  his 
being  and  providence,  as  they  are  manifested  in  the 
objects  of  nature.  Lift  up  your  eyes  on  high,  and 
behold  who  hath  created  these  things.  They  speak 
of  the  works  of  creation  as  presenting  the  plainest 
proofs  of  an  all-powerful  and  divine  Author.  The 
invisible  things  of  him  from  the  creation  of  the  world 
are  clearly  seen,  being  understood  by  the  things  ivhich 
are  made,,  even  his  eternal  power  and  Godhead. — 
They  invite  our  attention  to  the  wonders  of  creation, 
as  a  most  noble  and  delightful  study.  The  works  of 
the  Lord  are  great,  sought  out  of  all  them  who  have 
pleasure  therein.  They  call  upon  the  heavens^  and 
earth,  the  seas  and  mountains,  the  animal,  the  herb, 
and  every  thing  which  exists,  to  celebrate  the  praises 
of  the  Creator :  that  is,  they  require  of  us  to  study 
his  providence  ourselves,  as  exhibited  in  these  vari- 
ous forms,  and  elevate  our  souls  to  him,  in  the  con- 
templation of  that  almighty  power  and  munificence, 
which  are  displayed  in  every  part  of  the  universe. 
It  was  a  common  practice  with  our  Saviour,  in  teach- 
ing his  disciples,  to  make  use  of  the  works  of  nature 
in  leading  them  to  reflect  on  heavenly  and  spiritual 
things.  Behold  the  fowls  of  the  air.  Consider  the 
lillies  of  the  field. 

T.     What  other  reasons  recommend  this  study  ? 

A.  While  it  is  adapted  to  cultivate  our  devout 
feelings,  and  render  the  universe  a  perpetual  temple 
for  the  worship  of  its  infinite  Author,  the  study  of  na- 
ture is  most  worthy  of  a  rational  curiosity.  It  is  suit- 
ed to  every  capacity.     It  may  be  enjoyed  in  every 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  i 

situation.  Its  field  is  boundless  ;  its  novelty  inex- 
haustible. If  the  eminence  of  an  artist  attach  a  high- 
er interest  to  his  productions ;  if  we  should  crowd  to 
see  the  works  of  a  Phidias,  a  Praxiteles,  or  a  Rapha- 
el, with  what  emotions  should  those  objects  be  sur- 
veyed, which  lead  up  our  thoughts  to  an  Almighty 
Author.  Shall  we  reserve  our  curiosity  for  the  im- 
perfect exhibitions  of  our  own  limited  powers,  and  be 
indifferent  to  the  study  which  reveals  in  every  form  . 
the  hand  of  Infinite  Wisdom  ?  Whatever  reason  we 
can  imagine  for  the  study  of  human  inventions,  a  far 
higher,  surely,  may  be  adduced  for  directing  our  at- 
tention to  those  Divine  contrivances  which  immeasur- 
ably surpass  them.  There  is  scarcely  an  art  but  has 
its  more  simple  and  admirable  parallel  in  some  natural 
provision.  Nature  either  furnishes  the  pattern,  or  ex- 
emplifies the  result  in  a  more  perfect  manner.  The 
telescope  was  improved,  and  the  first  idea  of  it  proba- 
bly suggested,  from  an  examination  of  the  Eye.  What 
is  the  most  finished  statue,  compared  with  the  living 
form  ?  The  works  of  art  are  soon  exhausted ;  and 
by  a  critical  inspection  we  can  easily  discover  blem- 
ishes and  imperfections  in  them.  But  the  more  close- 
ly we  examine  their  great  originals  in  the  vast  king- 
dom of  nature,  the  more  proofs  do  they  afford  us  of 
the  perfection  of  the  works  of  God,  in  comparison  with 
the  highest  efforts  of  human  skill.  Shall  our  interest 
then  be  excited  at  hearing  of  any  new  engine  or  piece 
of  machinery  which  some  one  has  invented?  shall 
novelty  be  attractive    and   almost   irresistible,  when 


8  INTRODUCTION. 

there  are  these  imperfect  objects  to  call  it  forth  ?  and 
shall  we  be  indifferent  to  the  innumerable  wonders  of 
nature  around  us,  the  examination  of  whifch  would 
prove  a  sure  mean  of  enlightening  our  minds,  exalting 
our  thoughts,  and  advancing  our  piety  ? 

T.  How  do  we  arrive  at  the  knowledge  of  an  Al- 
mighty Creator,  from  contemplating  the  spectacle  of 
the  universe  ? 

A,  The  countless  manifestations  of  design,  and 
the  continued  display  of  bountiful  provisions  through 
all  nature,  are  a  proof  of  some  designing  power,  and 
of  a  power  beneficent  and  good,  that  is,  of  the  Being 
whom  we  denominate  God.  If  we  should  deem  it 
absurd  to  suggest  that  a  watch  was  an  accidental  com- 
bination of  wheels  and  springs,  not  intended  for  any 
purpose,  how  much  more  irrational  to  suppose  tha:t  so 
many  manifestations  of  design,  in  the  universe,  exist 
without  design  !  When  the  humblest  appearances  of 
order,  arrangement,  and  adaptation  to  use,  in  any  ob- 
ject, even  in  a  birdVuest,  would  lead  us  to  pronounce 
it  not  a  casual  formation,  but  the  production  of  some 
animal,  shall  the  infinite  spectacle  of  subserviency, 
proportion  and  harmony,  which  the  universe  presents, 
impress  no  conviction  of  design  or  of  a  designing 
cause  ?  Shall  design  cease  to  be  deducible  when  once 
we  have  ascended  from  the  mysterious  operations  of 
animal  instinct  and  human  reason  ?  We  know  there  is 
designing  intelligence  in  animals  or  men,  only  from 
what  they  perform.  We  call  them  intelligent,  only 
because  they  act  as  if  they  were  so.  This  is  our  only 
evidence.     If  they  were  destitute  of  interior  faculties, 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  V 

they  would  still  preserve  the  same  outward  appear- 
ance. It  is  only,  in  any  case,  the  existence  of  intelli- 
gent acts  that  proves  the  existence  of  an  intelligent 
principle.  And  shall  the  work  evince  the  workman 
in  e  very  instance  but  where  the  work  is  an  exhibition 
of  infinite  contrivance  ?  Must  he  be  pronounced  in- 
telligent, who  has  written  a  book  concerning  the  won- 
ders of  nature,  and  those  wonders  themselves  not  be 
equal  to  sustain  a  similar  conclusion  ?  What  incredi- 
ble blindness,  to  have  suggested  such  a  presumptuous 
absurdity  ! 

T.  If  we  should  see  the  most  superb  palace  in  the 
world,  or  the  most  magnificent  production  of  human 
art,  should  we  not  be  delighted  and  amazed  ?  Why 
then,  are  we  not  daily  and  hourly  filled  with  raptu- 
rous emotions,  in  contemplating  that  infinitely  nobler 
spectacle  which  is  continually  open  to  our  inspection  ? 

A,  ''  The  miracles  of  nature  are  exposed  to  our 
eye,  (as  a  celebrated  French  writer  beautifully  ex- 
presses it),  long  before  we  have  reason  enough  to  de- 
rive any  light  from  them.  If  we  entered  the  world, 
with  the  same  reason  which  a  spectator  carries  with 
him  to  an  opera,  the  first  time  he  enters  a  theatre, — 
and  if  the  curtain  of  the  universe,  if  we  may  so  term 
it,  were  to  be  rapidly  drawn  up,  struck  with  the  gran- 
deur of  every  thing  which  we  saw,  and  all  the  obvi- 
ous contrivances  exhibited,  we  should  not  be  capable 
of  refusing  our  homage  to  the  Eternal  Power,  which 
had  prepared  for  us  such  a  spectacle."  But  we  do 
not  think  of  marvelling  at  objects  we  have  seen  for 


10  INTRODUCTION. 

SO  many  years,  or  we  think  of  them  less,  because 
they  have  so   often  been  before  us. 

T.  Is  this  an  argument  in  favor  of  those  studies 
which  are  adapted  to  awaken  an  attention  to  the 
works  of  God  ? 

A.  It  is.  We  ought,  if  possible,  to  be  always  ex- 
tending our  acquaintance  with  the  wonders  with 
which  we  are  surrounded,  which  proclaim  an  all-wise 
and  beneficent  Creator,  so  that  we  may  pause  and 
suspend  our  thoughts,  and  feel  more  sensibly  the 
demonstrations  of  Providence,  by  observing  them  con- 
tinually displayed  in  some  new  form. 

T.  It  is  for  this  reason,  in  part,  we  shall  particu- 
larly examine  the  human  structure,  which  has  not 
probably  been  much  attended  to  by  most  of  you.  But 
I  intended  to  ask  you,  whether  it  is  requisite  to  the 
evidence  of  design,  that  we  should  at  once  perceive 
the  architect  himself? 

A.  By  no  means.  I  do  not  require  to  see  the  ma- 
ker of  a  machine,  to  be  convinced  that  a  maker  was 
originally  employed  in  the  construction.  If  I  should 
find  a  palace  in  a  desolate  wild — with  not  a  human 
being  to  be  seen,  this  would  not  lead  me  to  suppose 
that  it  never  had  an  architect.  It  does  not,  therefore 
weaken  the  demonstration  of  a  creative  Intelligence, 
that  the  Architect  of  the  universe  is  unseen.  In 
truth,  when  I  come  to  reflect,  I  am  sensible  I  never 
beheld  any  architect,  in  reality, — not  even  a  human 
one.  The  outward  form,  which  is  all  I  ever  perceiv- 
ed is  not  the  architect.  The  real  architect  is  the 
thinking,  contriving  mind  ;    and  this  was  never  seen 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  11 

by  any  human  being.  I  could  not,  therefore,  expect 
to  behold  the  Author  of  the  universe,  when  I  never 
beheld  the  author  of  any  other  production. 

T.  This  was  the  thought  of  Soci^ates.  Does  it 
lessen  the  proof  of  an  Infinite  Intelligence,  that  we  do 
not  understand  every  part  of  the  universe,  and  that 
many  events  are  mysterious  ? 

A.  Far  from  it.  There  are  many  productions  of 
human  skill,  which  the  inventors  only  can  explain. 
The  wisest  conduct  of  the  parent  often  appears  mys- 
lirious  to  the  child.  We  cannot  wonder,  therefore, 
if  the  ways  of  Infinite  Wisdom  are  frequently  inscru- 
table. 

T.  Can  you  mention  any  religious  advantage, 
which  young  persons  particularly  may  be  expected  to 
derive  from  this  study  ? 

A.  Every  religious  impression  is  most  important 
in  early  life.  Our  admiration  of  outward  objects 
should  be  directed  into  a  devout  channel  at  that  pe- 
riod, when  they  strike  our  senses  the  most  powerfully. 
Happy,  if  we  are  not  then  deficient  in  any  know-^ 
ledge  which  may  enable  us  to  perceive  in  every  thing 
around  us,  the  proofs  of  divine  wisdom  and  benefi- 
cence, and  lead  us  to  view  the  beauties  of  nature  with 
perpetual  reference  to  their  Author. 

T.  Has  this  study  any  recommendation  as  a  use- 
ful exercise  to  the  mind  ? 

A.  The  study  of  uses  and  designs  in  nature,  must 
conduce  to  a  habit  of  careful  observation  and  just  rea- 
soning,— and  thereby  promote  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant objects  of  education,   in   that  way  in  which  the 


12  INTRODUCTION. 

young  would  be  most  likely  to  be  interested  in  the 
pursuit. 

T.  For  this  purpose,  which  seems  the  more  use- 
ful, general  contemplation  of  what  is  beautiful  and 
sublime  in  the  works  of  nature,  or  examining  carefully 
into  particular  instances  of  design  ? 

A.  To  gain  clear  and  distinct  impressions,  it  is 
necessary  to  inspect  single  examples  minutely,  and 
to  fix  our  attention  upon  the  details  of  divine  wisdom 
and  goodness. 

T.  What  example  most  directly  invites  our  ncv 
tice  ? 

A.  That  example  we  have  in  ourselves,  seems 
most  immediately  our  concern.  Every  part  of  the 
universe  may  be  equally  curious,  but  none  can  be  so 
interesting  to  us,  as  our  own  frame.  Whatever  we 
may  know  of  the  wisdom  displayed  in  our  own  strue- 
ture,  how  frequent  are  the  occasions  which  remind  us 
of  it !  We  cannot  but  feel  the  most  sensibly  that 
care  which  is  manifested  for  our  own  benefit.  Not  a 
child  could  be  indifferent  to  an  instance  of  divine 
goodness,  immediately  concerning  himself  We  need 
not  be  anatomists,  but  we  certainly  ought  to  possess 
some  general  knowledge  of  those  exhibitions  of  Al- 
mighty power  and  skill  which  have  the  most  intimate 
claims  upon  our  regard, 

T.  What  you  are  to  describe,  is  only  a  general 
outline  of  our  wonderful  machine.  The  object  is  not 
to  teach  you  a  system  of  anatomy,  but  merely  to  no- 
tice some  of  the  leading  marks  of  design  in  the  hu- 
man frame,    so   fearfully  and  wonderfully  made.     I 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  13 

hope  they  may  lead  you  to  a  more  realizing  sense  of 
the  Being  around  us,  and  dispose  you  to  study  with 
more  attention  that  still  higher  revelation  of  himself, 
with  which  he  has  privileged  us  in  his  holy  word. 
Though  we  shall  speak  only  of  particular  instances  of 
design,  it  is  not  because  there  are  not  innumerable 
others  equally  deserving  our  notice  ;  the  object  mere- 
ly being,  to  select  a  sufficient  variety  of  examples 
that  may  be  easily  understood,  and  to  present  them 
in  some  order  which  may  assist  your  recollection. 
You  may  begin  with  what  has  been  called  the  noblest 
part  of  the  human  structure. 


THE    HEAD. 


A.  The  head  holds  the  first  rank  of  all  the  visible 
parts  of  the  body. 

T.  Principally,  because  it  contains  the  brain. — 
You  are  aware  how  important  the  brain  is,  and  that 
the  least  injury  may  occasion  the  loss  of  the  senses, 
and  be  followed  by  fatal  consequences.  What  do 
you  remember  upon  this  subject  ? 

A.  The  brain  is  considered  as  the  seat  of  sen- 
sation, to  which  the  impressions  of  all  the  nerves 
are  transmitted;  the  more  immiediate  residence  of  the 
living  principle  ;  and  the  organ  with  which  Provi- 
dence has  mysteriously  connected  the  exhibition  of 

B 


14 


HEAir, 


sensitive  and  intellectual  powers.  How  it  is  the  in-* 
strument  of  such  important  uses,  we  are  wholly  un- 
able to  explain.  No  anatomical  examination  has 
led  to  the  least  discovery.  It  is  sufficient  that,  while 
it  is  the  most  important  organ  of  the  animal  system, 
we  see  a  corresponding  care  in  several  natural  provi- 
sions, to  protect  it  from  injury,  and  to  preserve  its 
delicate  texture  from  the  least  derangement. 

JB.  You  observed  that  the  exhibition  of  sensitive 
and  intellectual  powers  is  mysteriously  connected  with 
the  brain.  Did  you  mean  that  the  mind  itself  is  only 
a  certain  property  or  quality  of  the  animal  brain  ? 

A.  No.  Only  that  certain  injuries  to  the  brain 
seem  to  disturb  the  senses,  and  to  produce  insanity  or 
stupidity.  So  one^s  sense  of  seeing  would  be  impaired 
or  destroyed,  to  appearance,  if  his  spectacles  were 
smoked  or  broken  ;  though  the  real  difficulty  would 
be,  not  that  the  faculty  of  vision  itself  was  injured,  but 
only  the  instrument  by  which  that  faculty  is  enabled  to 
shew  itself,  was  rendered  incapable  of  performing  its 
duty.  Thus  it  may  be,  in  the  present  appearance. 
The  brain  is  the  instrument  of  the  mind ;  and  when 
the  instrument  is  affected,  the  mind,  to  all  appear- 
ance, is  affected  too.  But  then,  it  is  easy  to  show 
bow  it  may  be  only  appearance. 

B.  I  believe  I  understand  you. 

T.  I  am  happy  you  do  in  so  few  words  ;  for  I  do 
not  wish  you  to  enter  upon  any  metaphysical  specu- 
lations at  present.  We  will  reserve  these  for  another 
opportunity.  I  want  you  now  to  confine  yourselves 
to  the  consideration  of  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY. 


15 


the  all-bountiful  Creator,  as  manifested  in  the  visible 
frame,  and  in  those  things  which  are  subjected  to  the 
notice  of  our  senses.  You  was  speaking  of  the  deli- 
cate textare  of  the  brain,  and  what  striking  instances 
of  care  may  be  seen  in  the  provisions  which  are  made 
for  its  preservation  and  security. 

B.  First,  I  wish  you  would  give  me  some  idea  of 
this  organ, 

A,  It  is  a  soft  substance  filling  the  hollow  of 
the  head,  composed  of  various  parts  differing  in  tex- 
ture and  figure,  but  unknown  in  their  uses. — The 
two  principal  divisions  of  this  organ  are  called  the 
cerebrum  and  cerebellum ;  the  former  occupying  the 
forward  part  of  the  head,  and  the  latter,  the  poste- 
rior or  hinder  part.  What  is  called  the  spinal  mar- 
row,  is  a  continuation  of  the  brain  into  the  hollow  of 
the  back-bone,  and  is  extended  down  through  its 
whole  length.  From  this  most  of  the  nerves  of  the 
body  are  given  out.  Gall  and  Spurzheim  maintain 
that  the  fore  part  of  the  brain  has  a  particular  con- 
nexion with  the  intellectual  powers  ;  and  the  back 
part,  with  animal  propensities. 

T.  This  will  suffice.  We  are  now  confining  our 
attention  to  exhibitions  of  design,  and  not  going  into 
mere  descriptions  of  parts.  Taking  for  granted,  what 
it  will  require  no  argument  to  prove,  the  peculiar  im- 
portance of  protecting  the  brain,  on  account  of  its 
being  the  most  delicate  and  essential  organ  in  the  ani- 
mal frame,  you  may  mention  some  of  the  principal 
provisions,  in  which  we  are  led  to  admire  the  displays 
of  ingenuity  and  contrivance,  if  we  may  so  express  it. 


16  HEAD. 

for  this  purpose.     They  are   very   remarkable,    and 
you  may  be  somewhat  particular. 

A.  Anatomists  speak  with  admiration  of  the  car- 
pentry and  architectural  contrivances  exhibited  in  the 
head,  for  the  security  of  the  brain.  In  the  first  place, 
the  skull  is  a  hollow  bone.  A  carpenter  cases  a  deli- 
cate article  in  a  close,  firm,  solid  box.  It  is  the  more 
remarkable  in  the  skull,  because  a  bony  case  is  not 
the  covering  which  is  generally  adopted  in  the  body. 
All  the  great  cavities  of  the  system  are  principally 
sacs,  formed  chiefly  by  skins  or  membranes.  But  the 
one  which  encloses  the  brain  is  hewn  out  of  a  bone. 
The  heart,  the  lungs,  the  stomach,  the  bowels,  are 
not  equally  tender,  and  have  no  such  security.  We 
can  see  the  wisdom  of  this  arrangement.  But  we 
discover  no  natural  reason  for  it,  besides  design. — 
The  brain  requires  a  stronger  protection.  Its  su- 
preme delicacy  and  importance  render  such  a  protec- 
tion necessary.  But  this  is  no  cause  tahy  a  more 
solid  case  should  surround  it,  except  as  we  refer  ta 
the  agency  of  an  intelligent  Contriver. 

B.  So  the  strength  of  the  cover  is  proportioned 
to  the  tenderness  of  the  substance  which  is  lodged 
within  it. 

A.  The  brain  is  not  only  protected  by  a  solid 
case,  but  is  enclosed  in  a  case  by  itself.  The  heart 
and  lungs  occupy  one  cavity  together  ;  the  liver,  sto- 
mach, spleen,  intestines,  are  packed  in  another  cavity 
below  it.  They  are  not  of  so  soft  and  delicate  a  con- 
sistency as  to  be  disturbed  by  each  other's  motions, 
or  a  slight  degree  of  compression.     But  the  brain  is 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY. 


17 


of  such  exquisite  tenderness,  that  it  would  be  injured 
by  the  least  pressure  of  surrounding  parts.  The  skill 
of  the  architect  is  here  displayed,  in  causing  the 
brain  to  occupy  a  separate  apartment. 

B.  How  striking  when  it  is  mentioned  1  and  yet 
I  doubt  whether  one  person  in  a  milhon  has  ever 
thought  of  the  circumstance. 

T.  Perhaps  not ;  and  yet,  I  presume,  nothing  is 
more  true,  than,  that  if  the  brain  had  been  placed  in 
the  chest,  or  in  any  such  situation  as  is  assigned  to 
the  other  vital  organs,  the  pressure  upon  this  tender 
substance  would  have  been  instantly  fatal.  Do  you 
think  of  any  evidence  of  design  in  the  form  of  the 
head  ? 

A.  Round  vessels  are  the  least  liable  to  be  bro- 
ken, or  pressed  in.  Thus — a  thin  watch-glass,  be- 
cause it  is  rounded  up  in  the  middle,  will  bear  a  very 
hard  push.  A  full  cask  may  fall  with  impunity, 
where  a  square  box  would  be  dashed  to  pieces.  A 
yery  thin,  globular  flask  or  glass,  corked  and  sent 
down  many  fathoms  into  the  sea,  will  resist  the  pres- 
sure of  water  around  it.  where  a  square  bottle,  with 
sides  of  almost  any  thickness,  would  be  crushed  to 
atoms.  The  common  egg-shell  is  another  example 
of  the  same  class.  What  hard  blows  of  the  spoon  or 
knife  are  often  required  to  penetrate  this  wonderful 
defence,  provided  for  the  dormant  life,  or  living  prin- 
ciple, contained  within  the  egg !  *  The  arches  of 
bridges,  the  roofs  of  houses,  the  helmets  of  soldiers, 


*  Arnott 

b2 


18  HEAD. 

Sic. ,  are  all  constructed  upon  the  same  principle. 
This  is  not  only  the  general  form  of  the  case  which 
has  to  cover  and  protect  the  brain  ;  but,  wonderful  to 
think,  the  head  is  most  rounded  precisely  in  those 
places,  where,  in  falling,  it  would  be  most  likely  to 
strike  the  ground.  These  are,  the  middle  of  the  fore- 
head, the  projecting  part  of  the  head  behind,  and  the 
upper  portions  upon  each  side,  or  those  least  protect- 
ed by  the  shoulders.  Anatomists  also  observe,  that 
just  in  those  situations  where  a  carpenter  strength- 
ens his  roofs  by  braces,  there  the  roof  of  the  skull 
will  be  found  to  be  strengthened  by  strong  ridges  of 
bone  on  the  inside,  which  answer  the  same   purpose. 

B.  Any  one  may  perceive;  that  the  round  form  of 
the  head  is  the  most  beautiful,  but  few,  it  is  probable, 
have  ever  thought  of  any  other  advantage. 

T.  But  this  is  a  small  part  of  the  wisdom  dis- 
pjayed  in  this  wonderful  structure. 

A.  The  skull  is  a  double  case  ;  and  may  be  com- 
pared to  two  bowls,  one  within  the  other.  The  outer 
bowl  is  a  tough  and  woody  kind  of  bone.  The  inner 
bowl  is  of  a  much  more  hard  and  brittle  texture : 
anatomists  give  it  the  name  of  vitreous,  from  a  Latin 
word  which  signifies  glass.  What  completes  the  con- 
trivance, there  lies  between,  a  corky,  spongy  kind  of 
bone,  anatomists  call  it  the  diploe, — and  each  of  these 
particulars  has  its  advantage.  Our  kind  Architect 
seems  to  have  contemplated  several  distinct  securities 
in  this  structure,  which  are  made  necessary  by  differ- 
ent and  not  infrequent  dangers  to  which  we  are  expo^ 
sed.     It  is  readily  seen,  that  one  familiar  danger  is. 


NATURAL    THEOLOOT.  19 

that  of  the  head  being  pierced  through  by  any  pene- 
trating body,  as  a  fork,  a  penknife,  the  corner  of  a 
stone,  &c. ;  and  hence  the  advantage  of  a  hard  and 
glassy  cover  about  the  brain,  capable  of  turning  the 
edge  of  any  sharp  or  pointed  instrument.  But  then, 
a  covering  hard  and  glassy  throughout  would  be  sub- 
ject to  be  chipped  and  cracked  continually.  Under 
these  circumstances,  the  double  case  is  plainly  the 
true  mechanical  contrivance,  that  is,  an  inner  bone 
calculated  to  resist  any  cutting  or  pointed  body, 
— plated  over  with  another,  less  subject  to  be  scaled 
or  splintered  by  strokes  upon  the  outside.  Such  is 
tlie  architectural  contrivance  exhibited  in  the  skull. 

B.  Who  could  ever  have  supposed  all  this  to 
be  accidental !  If  a  man's  ingenuity  were  to  be  ex- 
ercised in  contriving  a  protection  for  the  brain,  it 
is  difficult  to  say  how  he  could  have  obtained  the 
object  better.  It  seems  as  though  there  could  be  no 
danger  now  from  any  common  accident,  except  the 
brain  might  be  hable  to  be  jarred  by  blows  or  falls 
occasionally. 

T.  These  blows  and  falls,  however,  are  apt  not 
to  be  very  infrequent ;  and  the  brain  is  so  tender 
and  sensitive  an  organ,  as  might  render  even  a  jar  a 
very  serious  affair.  A  celebrated  anatomist  observes, 
that  a  blow  upon  a  man's  head,  by  a  body  which  shall 
cause  a  vibration,  (or  jar),  through  the  substance  of 
the  brain,  may  more  effectually  deprive  him  of  sense 
and  motion,  than  if  an  axe  or  a  sword  penetrated  into 
the  substance  of  the  brain  itself.  There  is,  in  several 
respects,  a  remarkable  structure  of  the  head,  adapted 


20  HEAD. 

to  this  very  danger.  In  most  of  the  instances,  the 
structure  has  reference  to  other  advantages,  but  it  is 
suited  in  every  one  to  the  advantage  of  which  we  are 
now  speaking.  What  have  you  learned  upon  this 
subject  ? 

A.  The  globe  of  the  head  is  composed  of  ssveral 
bones.  They  admit,  at  birth,  of  being  easily  separa- 
ted ;  and  during  youth  and  up  to  the  period  of  man- 
hood, the  seams  or  joinings  of  the  pieces  are  still  loose. 
Now,  it  is  apparent  that  unless  the  union  of  the  joints 
of  any  vessel  is  absolutely  solid,  as  much  so  as  in  any 
other  part,  it  must  tend  to  prevent  a  ringing,  or  jar, 
from  extending  through.  Hence  it  is,  that  the  slight- 
est disunion  in  a  piece  of  ware  may  be  detected  by  a 
stroke  of  the  knuckle,  which  could  not  else  be  dis- 
covered ;  the  flaw  impedes  the  vibration,  and  this  af- 
fects the  sound.  There  is  reason  to  believe,  that  in 
early  childhood,  especially  during  the  lessons  of  walk- 
ing, this  is  one  cause  why  falls  are  borne  with  so 
much  impunity.  (Arnott  on  the  Elements  of  Phy- 
sics.) But  anatomists  mention  another  security  ;  the 
more  curious,  because  it  has  so  precise  a  resemblance 
to  a  kind  of  precaution  we  adopt  ourselves  in  similar 
cases.  The  skull  is  lined  within,  like  a  soldier's  steel 
cap  ; — one  advantage  of  which  lining  to  the  soldier  is, 
that  it  diminishes  the  jar  occasioned  by  the  sword, 
and  which  would  be  capable  of  bringing  him  to  the 
ground  without  any  penetration  by  the  weapon.  The 
effect  may  be  seen  in  a  wine  glass,  which  will  not 
ring  if  we  but  touch  our  finger  upon  the  cup.  There  is 
the  same  principle  of  security  in  the  bony  case,  which 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  SI 

surrounds  the  brain,  and  which  is  termed  by  anato- 
mists, cranium^  from  a  Greek  word  signifying  a  helmet, 

B.  So,  without  knowing  it,  we  have  made  our 
helmets  to  cover  the  head,  upon  the  very  principle 
upon  which  the  head  itself  is  constructed. 

T.  Yes,  and  in  another  circumstance  quite  as  cu- 
rious as  this. 

A.  The  helmet  is  not  only  lined  with  leather,  but 
covered  with  hair^  which  is  said  not  to  be  intended  for 
an  ornament  merely,  but  is  an  essential  part  of  the  pro- 
tection. It  breaks  the  force  of  the  blow,  and  lessens 
the  agitation  of  the  metal.  Nature  has  done  the  same. 
The  advantage  of  the  hair  is  two-fold.  It  tends  to 
prevent  any  tremulous  motion  in  the  skull,  upon  the 
principle  of  a  coating ; — and  besides,  furnishes  the 
general  benefit  of  a  cushion  for  the  head ;  for  which 
it  is  eminently  fitted,  it  being  the  very  material  of 
which  cushions  are  usually  made,  on  account  of  its 
particular  excellence  as  a  springy  or  elastic  substance. 
Such  are  some  of  the  uses  which  the  wisdom  of  na- 
ture has  contrived  to  unite  with  this  beautiful  orna- 
ment. 

B.  It  appears,  then,  that  the  greater  abundance 
of  the  hair,  when  we  are  young  and  heedless,  is  no 
unimportant  circumstance. 

A.  There  is  one  practice  with  regard  to  children, 
however,  that  would  not  seem  to  accord  very  well 
with  this  provision  of  Providence, — I  mean  that  of 
rocking  them  to  sleep.  The  violence  with  which  this 
mechanical  anodyne  is  often  applied  by  the  impatient 
nurse,  argues  no  great  sensibility,  one  would  think,  in 
the  brain  of  the  infant. 


22  HEAD. 

T.  It  is  possible  that  the  regularity  of  the  motion, 
like  that  of  musical  sounds,  may  have  a  lulling  effect, 
and,  so  far  as  this  cause  is  concerned,  no  injury  per- 
haps may  arise.  But  you  may  be  aware,  the  prac- 
tice is,  after  all,  objectecfto  by  some  medical  writers. 
They  say,  that  sleeping  should  be  purely  natural  in  a 
healthy  infant,  as  it  is  in  after  life,  and  not  induced 
by  the  stupifying  effects  of  any  artificial  means. 

You  spoke  of  the  skull  as  composed  of  several 
bones.  Is  there  any  thing  remarkable  in  the  manner 
in  which  they  are  united  ? 

A.  It  is  surprising,  anatomists  observe,  to  see  how 
the  pieces  are  joined  in  the  best  possible  mode  for  se- 
curity. The  edges,  where  the  bones  unite,  are  cut 
into  little  teeth,  in  a  sawlike  manner,  and  interlock 
closely  with  one  another,  so  as  to  produce  the  firmest 
joint.  It  resembles  that  strong  mode  of  uniting  which 
is  called  the  dovetail, — or,  more  exactly,  it  is  the  fox- 
tail joint  of  the  carpenter,  which  he  always  employs 
for  strong  work,  when  the  pieces  are  small.  Anato- 
mists call  it  a  suture.  It  makes  the  crinkling  lines 
which  may  be  noticed  on  the  outside  of  a  dry  skull. 


a,   one  of  the  sutures  on  the  outer  portion  of  the  skull. 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  23 

B.  Are  there  no  other  bones  which  are  united  in 
this  manner? 

T.  None  ;  it  is  only  in  the  skull,  that  it  would  be 
found  useful. 

B.  It  is  not  the  nature,  then,  of  bones,  as  such, 
to  grow  into  one  another  in  this  dovetail  form,  but  it 
is  confined  to  the  brain  case. 

T.  And  hence,  no  doubt,  you  considered  the  de^ 
sign  more  conspicuous,  that  there  should  be  an  ex- 
ception for  a  single  instance,  and  the  only  instance  in 
which  it  is  required.  If  you  know  what  is  meant  by 
a  dovetail  joint,  you  are  aware  it  only  prevents  the 
parts  which  are  united,  from  being  drawn  asunder. 
The  form  of  the  joint  does  not  secure  them  from 
being  lifted  up,  or  crowded  in,  out  of  their  places. 
The  mechanical  contrivance  for  this  purpose,  as  a 
carpenter  would  say,  must  be  a  rabbeting  or  lapping 
of  the  edges.  What  do  the  anatomists  tell  you  as  to 
this  matter  in  regard  to  the  head  ? 

A.  That  if  a  carpenter  were  to  inspect  this  in- 
genious work,  he  would  be  struck  with  observing  that 
every  bone  overlaps  the  adjoining  bone  at  some 
points,  and  at  other  points  it  is  itself  overlapped  by 
them ;  so  that  it  is  literally  impossible  that  any  bone 
should  be  driven  in  upon  the  brain  without  absolutely 
breaking  it,  which  requires  a  great  degree  of  violence. 

B.  One  must  be  quite  a  mechanic,  I  perceive^ 
to  understand  this  surprising  structure. 

A.  Anatomists  further  invite  attention  to  another 
particular.  The  teeth,  which  form  the  sutures,  ar« 
said  not  to  extend  through,  that  is,  the  processes  or 


24  HEAD. 

juttings  out  between  the  bones,  and  by  which  they 
are  interlaced,  are  observable  only  upon  the  outer  sur^ 
face,  which  belongs  to  the  tougher,  woody  bowl  of 
the  skull.  On  the  internal  surface,  the  pieces  are 
laid  together  in  a  manner  more  nearly  approaching  a 
smooth  line.  This  mode  of  joining  is  called  by  anat- 
omists, harmonia,  or  harmony.  The  same  joint,  and 
the  same  name  for  it,  are  used  by  architects  in  mason- 
ry. This  is  pronounced  remarkable,  because  it  is  so 
plain,  that,  while  the  superior  toughness  of  the  exter- 
nal surface  will  better  admit  of  uniting  by  a  dovetail 
edge,  as  carpenters  do  in  their  work,  the  brittle  na- 
ture of  the  inside  is  not  so  suitable  for  this  species  of 
joint :  "  as  if  a  workman  in  glass  or  marble,"  says  Dr. 
Bell,  "  were  to  enclose  some  precious  thing,  he  would 
smooth  the  surfaces  and  unite  them  by  cement,  be- 
cause, even  if  he  could  succeed  in  indenting  the  line 
of  union,  he  knows  that  his  material  would  chip  off 
on  the  slightest  vibration."  Such  is  the  ingenious 
and  provident  structure  of  the  skull. 

Fig.    2. 


b,   one  of  the  joints  upon  the  internal  surface  of  the  skull. 

B.     One  would  think  anatomists  must  be  the  most 
devout  persons   in   the   w^orld,  when  they  know  so 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY. 


25 


much  more  than  others,  of  the  wisdom  of  the  human 
frame. 

T,  I  Gould  detain  you  much  longer,  however,  up- 
on this  wonderful  workmanship. 

B,  No  particular  can  be  uninteresting,  where  the 
hand  of  a  Divine  Architect  is  seen. 

T.  Do  you  know  the  use  of  those  iron  pieces,  in 
the  shape  of  the  letter  S,  you  will  often  see  on  the 
outside  of  brick  buildings  ? 

B.  I  presume  they  are  connected  with  the  beams 
upon  the  inside,  and  serve  to  keep  the  walls  from 
spreading  apart. 

T.  And  you  must  be  sensible,  as  the  dome  of  the 
head  is  composed  of  several  bones,  in  case  of  a  vio- 
lent pressure  or  blow  upon  the  top,  some  security 
might  be  useful  for  the  same  purpose.  It  is  said,  that 
when  a  man  falls,  so  as  to  strike  the  crown  of  his 
head  upon  the  ground,  if  the  skull  yields,  it  yields  in 
the  temples,  or  it  spreads  out  at  the  bottom  of  the 
dome  ;  just  where  any  other  dome  would  spur  out, 
should  the  roof  be  too  heavy  for  the  support.  Now, 
is  there  any  architecture  of  the  head,  that  manifests  a 
knowledge  of  this  danger  ? 

A.  Anatomists  describe  a  remarkable  structure 
which  evidently  contemplated  it :  wonderful  as  it 
may  seem,  there  is  a  bone,  called  the  sphenoid  bone, 
which  runs  across  the  bottom  of  the  skull,  and  turns 
up  with  a  plate  at  each  extremity,  so  as  to  overlap 
the  walls  upon  the  outside.  The  plate,  (see  5,  in 
Fig.  1.),  is  thin  in  the  head,  but  stronger,  compara- 
c 


HEAD. 


lively  than  that  which  is  used  for  the  security  of  a 
brick  wall. 

B.  There  seems  to  be  no  species  of  contrivance 
but  what  is  exemplified  about  this  admirable  archi- 
tecture— and  the  more  remarkable  in  the  present 
case,  as  there  can  be  no  natural  tendency  in  the  pres- 
sure of  the  avails  of  the  head  to  create  tie  pieces  upon 
each  side,  but  the  reverse  :  as  well  might  we  say, 
that  the  pressure  of  the  dome  of  St.  Paul's  Church  in 
London,  has  made  the  double  chain  which  encompas- 
ses it  around  the  bottom  to  hinder  it  from  spreading. 

T.  And  you  are  aware  this  is  the  very  object  we 
have  in  view,  to  show  a  creative  Intelligence  by  dis- 
playing actual  and  original  purpose  and  contrivance, 
in  our  frame,  such  as  can  only  be  referred  to  design. 
You  may  mention  some  other  particulars  respecting 
this  wonderful  mechanism. 

A.  The  head  is  lined  with  a  thick,  firm  mem- 
brane, called  the  dura  mater,  and  this  lining  is  also 
lined  with  a  thinner  membrane  termed  the  pia  mateVy 
— -pia,  (from  one  of  the  meanings  of  the  word),  ten- 
der, affectionate . 

B.  Then,  there  is  a  softer  wrapper  in  contact 
with  the  brain,  and  a  firmer  one  upon  the  outside. 

T.  Precisely  the  same  mode  we  adopt  ourselves, 
in  packing  a  precious  article  of  which  we  wish  to  be 
very  careful. 

B.  Excepting  the  danger  of  some  great  violence, 
against  which  no  security  could  avail,  it  does  not  seem 
possible  to  conceive  what  more  could  have  been  done 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  27 

in  this  wonderful  piece  of  mechanism,  to  fit  it  for  the 
purposes  it  has  to  answer. 

T.  There  is,  at  least  one  happy  circumstance 
more,  deserving  to  be  mentioned,  and  that  is  one 
which  contributes  to  the  safety  of  the  brain,  even 
when  the  head  is  broken  in.     Can  you  describe  it  ? 

A.  The  principal  lining  of  the  head,  which  anato- 
mists call  the  dura  mater,  (dura, — hard  and  unyield- 
ing, to  signify  its  strength),  is  so  substantial  a  mem- 
brane, that  when  the  skull  is  fractured,  it  is  not  easy 
for  the  pieces  to  fall  in.  In  this  respect,  it  may  be 
compared  to  the  skin  upon  the  outside  of  an  egg, 
which  we  often  see  preserving  the  form  of  the  egg  en- 
tire, >vhen  the  shell  is  broken  in  a  thousand  pieces. 
But  for  this,  the  surgeon  would  rarely  be  able  to  raise 
the  fragments  of  a  skull  without  fatal  consequences  to 
the  brain.  This  lining  is  found  ^1^  in  the  spine, 
which  contains  a  continuation  of  the  substance  of  the 
brain.  We  discover  no  such  lining  in  the  hollows  of 
the  other  bones.  They  contain  nothing  which  re- 
quires it. 

T.  You  spoke  of  the  packing  of  the  brain  as  re- 
markable. There  is  another  instance,  more  curious 
still,  of  the  same  kind. 

A.  There  is  a  place  where  the  membranes  that 
enclose  the  brain  suddenly  turn  inward,  and  divide  it 
into  two  parts,  so  as  to  prevent  one  part  from  pressing 
upon  the  other.  The  partition  takes  place  in  a  re- 
markable situation.  It  is  where  that  portion  of  the 
brain  called  the  cerebrum,  and  which  occupies  the  for- 
ward and  upper  part  of  the  head,  begins  to  descend 


28  HEAD. 

upon  the  other  portion,  viz.  the  cerebellum,  which 
lies  in  the  lower  and  hinder  section  of  the  box;  the 
consequence  of  which  would  be,  that  one  would  com- 
press the  other,  if  it  w^ere  not  for  the  partition  between. 
In  ravenous  animals,  whose  brain  is  subject  to  violent 
motions  from  leaping,  he,  the  partition  is  said,  for 
the  most  part,  to  be  nearly,  or  quite,  of  the  consisten- 
cy of  bone. 

Fig.    3. 


a,   the  cerebrum,     b,  the  partition,  or  falx,  separating  the  two 
lobes  or  divisions  of  the  brain,      c,   the  cerebellum. 

B.  What  an  astonishing  resemblance  to  art  !  We 
often  see  boxes  containing  a  variety  of  precious  wares, 
parted  off  in  this  manner,  where  one  must  not  be  per- 
mitted to  be  crowded  by  the  others  around  it.  There 
seems  to  be  no  ingenuity  but  what  is  exemplified  in 
the  construction  of  this  wonderful  case. 

T.     Is  the  head  the  same  from  infancy  to  old  age  ? 

A.  The  changes  are  exceedingly  remarkable.  At 
birth,  the  bones  are  said  not  to  be  locked  together  at 
all.  They  are  separated  by  membranous  or  skinny 
spaces  between  them,  so  that  they  can  overlap  each 


NATURAL    THEOLOOr.  29 

Other  considerably,  and  suffer  the  head  to  be  reduced 
in  size.  Besides  this,  there  is  another  difference. 
As  we  advance  into  dechning  life,  the  whole  skull  be- 
comes more  like  one  uniform  bone,  when  our  own 
care  and  our  usual  aversion  to  personal  exposures, 
render  the  securities  of  nature  of  less  importance  to 
us.  "The  alteration  in  the  substance  of  the  bones, 
and  more  particularly  in  the  skull,"  says  a  most  dis- 
tinguished modern  anatomist,  "  is  marvellously  order- 
ed to  follow  the  changes  in  the  mind  of  the  creature, 
from  the  heedlessness  of  childhood  to  the  caution  of 
age,  and  even  to  the  helplessness  of  superanuation." 

B  There  seems  to  be  no  end  to  the  wonders  of 
this  curious  box.  Who  would  have  thought  of  the 
skull's  changing  its  structure  and  texture  to  suit  dif- 
ferent periods  of  life  !  We  have  only  to  lift  our  hand 
to  our  heads  to  be  persuaded  of  a  Divine  Architect. 

T.  Can  we  trace  any  particular  wisdom  in  the 
different  form  of  the  head  in  different  parts  ? 

A.  The  strongest  form  is  at  the  back.  Here  the 
head  is  the  most  rounded.  Here  also  the  skull  is 
particularly  thick  ;  and  besides  both  these  provisions, 
there  are  strong  ridges  of  bone  upon  the  inside,  which 
render  it  incapable,  or  nearly  so,  of  any  crack.  It  is 
by  far  the  strongest  part  of  the  head.  Now,  what  is 
remarkable,  it  happens  to  be  the  most  exposed  part, 
as  to  being  liable  to  the  heaviest  blows,  from  fajling 
backward.  In  short,  here  is  that  marked  and  distin- 
guishing species  of  foresight,  in  which  a  distant  danger 
is  taken  into  view ;  that  is,  in  which  the  structure  of 
the  head  is  adapted  to  the  accidents  of  the  feet. 
c2 


30  HEAD. 

B.  Now  we  can  understand  why  what  always 
seems  to  be  so  dangerous  should  be  attended  with  no 
more  injury,  the  falling  of  boys  upon  the  ice,  as  if 
they  would  sometimes  beat  their  heads  in.  It  is  in- 
deed a  beautiful  fact,  that  the  part  of  our  head  which 
cannot  have  the  protection  of  our  hands,  when  we 
fall,  should  be  particularly  guarded  by  the  make  of 
the  head  itself. 

A.  We  further  observe,  in  this  wonderful  combi- 
nation of  precautions,  that  the  temple  bones,  which 
are  the  thinnest  part  of  the  box,  are  placed  directly 
over  the  shoulders,  which  secure  them  in  case  of  a 
fall ;  and,  besides,  are  a  little  flattened  in  within  the 
general  circle  of  the  head,  which  preserves  them  still 
further  from  any  blow  ;  and  what  is  again  remarkable, 
are  composed,  anatomists  say,  of  the  hardest  bony 
matter  in  the  whole  body.  "  Generally  it  is  observ- 
able," says  Dr.  Bell,  "  of  the  whole  structure  of  the 
head,  that  those  parts  which  would  be  most  apt  to 
strike  the  ground  when  a  man  falls  are  the  strongest." 

T.  Anatomists  speak  of  a*  remarkable  display  of 
design  in  regard  to  preserving  the  brain  from  the 
pressure  of  the  blood. 

B.  I  can  easily  conceive  of  this  danger.  I  have 
frequently  felt  a  disagreeable  sensation  after  running 
or  stooping,  as  of  a  fulness  or  pressure  in  the  head. 

T.  Apoplexy,  the  most  fatal  of  all  disorders  in 
the  brain,  and  which  is  generally  occasioned  by  the 
bursting  of  a  blood  vessel,  or  the  interruption  of  the 
passage  of  the  blood  in  this  delicate  organ,  has  been 
known  to  be   brought  on  by  persons  whose  vessels 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  31 

happened  to  be  more  crowded,  or  more  feeble  than 
common,  bending  the  head  down  m  the  act  of  tying 
a  shoe  or  drawing  on  a  boot.  Children  and  tumblers, 
being  much  in  the  habit  of  placing  their  bodies  in  all 
positions,  feel  no  inconvenience  from  having  the  head 
downwards,  because  blood  vessels  always  become 
strong  enough  to  bear  the  pressure  to  which  they  are 
habitually  exposed  ;  but  to  many  old  people  ac- 
customed to  keep  the  head  always  upright,  the 
attempt  to  imitate  such  feats  would  be  dangerous. 
This  will  lead  you  to  appreciate  the  remarkable  pro- 
vision to  which  I  alluded.     Can  you  describe  it  ? 

A.  The  principal  blood  vessels  which  carry  up 
the  blood  into  the  brain,  and  about  one  tenth  part  of 
the  whole  blood  in  the  body,  it  is  said,  is  thrown  into 
that  organ,  are  so  contrived,  that  the  force  of  the 
stream,  and  it  is  thrown  with  a  smart  stroke,  owing  to 
the  nearness  of  the  heart,  is  principally  spent  against 
the  bone  of  the  skull.  The  provision  is  this.  The 
main  artery  of  the  head  makes  a  sudden  turn  in  the 
base  of  the  skull,  by  which  the  force  of  the  current 
is  broken,  and  then  distributes  itself  over  the  brain  ; 
the  consequence  of  which  is,  the  discharge  is  made 
against  the  bony  walls  of  the  skull.  It  is  like  a 
stream  of  water  from  an  engine,  striking  against  the 
side  of  a  building,  which  being  done,  the  water  drips 
down  or  diffuses  itself  without  any  considerable  vio- 
lence. In  quadrupeds,  the  poshion  of  whose  headsj„ 
being  nearly  upon  the  same  line  with  their  heart, 
exposes  the  blood  to  flow  with  more  force  into  the 
brain,  the  blood  vessels,  where  they  enter  the  skull, 


32  HEAD. 

are  previously  divided  into  a  number  of  little  branch- 
es, which,  by  multiplying  the  channels,  diminishes  the 
rush  of  the  stream. 

B.  I  shall  never  feel  a  throb  in  the  head  again ^ 
after  any  violent  exertion,  without  thinking  of  these 
admirable  securities. 

A.  The  principal  vessels  which  bring  the  blood 
back  from  the  brain  are  also  a  curiosity  of  contri- 
vance.  What  is  extraordinary,  they  differ  from  all 
other  veins  in  the  body  which  are  used  for  returning 
the  blood  to  the  heart.  It  is  plain,  the  blood  ought 
to  have  the  freest  and  easiest  return  possible  from  the 
brain.  Any  obstruction  would  be  followed  by  the 
most  serious  consequences  immediately.  "  There- 
fore,  it  is  one  of  those  particulars  which  powerfully 
aftect  a  contemplative  mind,  as  proofs  of  a  designing 
intelligence,"  says  a  late  eminent  writer,  (Arnott  on 
Physics),  "  that  the  chief  channels  which  return  the 
blood  from  the  head,  are  not  common  compressible 
veins,  (the  common  veins  are  skinny  or  membranous 
tubes,  easily  pressed  together),  but  they  are  what 
anatomists  call  sinuses,  or  grooves  in  the  bone  itself, 
with  exceedingly  strong  membranous  coverings,  sup- 
ported so  powerfully,  that  the  channels  become  in 
strength  little  inferior  to  complete  channels  of  bone." 

T.  There  are  many  varieties  adapted  to  the  na- 
ture and  circumstances  of  different  animals.  The 
head  most  nearly  resembling  the  human  is  that  of  the 
monkey  ;  but  there  are  several  respects  in  which  the 
similitude  fails,  as  may  be  seen  in  treatises  upon 
comparative  anatomy 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  33 

The  head  of  the  elephant  is  remarkable  for  con- 
taining uncommonly  large  vacuities  in  the  frontal 
bone,  which  render  the  enormous  mass  of  the  skull 
much  lighter  and  more  easy  to  be  borne  in  proportion 
to  the  bulk  than  that  of  many  other  animals. 


THE     SENSES 


T.  Besides  the  mechanism  of  the  head,  what 
other  marks  of  design  are  mentioned  in  this  wonder- 
ful structure  ? 

A.  That  it  is  the  seat  of  the  principal  senses, 
such  as  sight  and  hearing.  We  know  not  why  they 
should  be  situated  here,  or  why  the  eye  and  the  ear 
are  not  on  some  lower  part  of  the  body  ;  except,  as 
having  to  take  notice  of  distant  objects,  they  require 
the  highest  situation  they  can  have,  to  enable  them 
the  better  to  perform  their  duty.  But  this  is  no  rea- 
son for  their  having  this  situation,  as  we  can  see,  only 
as  we  take  into  view  an  Architect,  who  was  aware  of 
the  advantage.  Again,  the  eye  looks  forward  in  the 
same  direction  with  the  motions  of  the  hands  and 
feet  ;  but  for  which  circumstance,  the  eye  would 
have  been  of  very  little  use  to  us ;  and  yet  there  was 
a  whole  circle  of  positions  around  the  head,  in  which 
it  might  have  been  differently  situated.  Let  a  child 
only  reflect  upon  the  inconvenience  of  having  his 
eyes  upon  the  side  of  his  head,  as  over  his   ears,  for 


34  SENSES. 

example  ;  that  is,  of  being  compelled  to  look  in  one 
direction  and  walk  in  another.  The  senses  of  sight 
and  hearing  are  given  us  in  pairs  ;  so  that  if  one  eye, 
or  one  ear  should  fail  us,  the  duplicate  may  still  an- 
swer our  purpose.  None  of  the  senses  are  single. 
None  of  them  are  confined  to  one  solitary  spot  of  the 
body,  so  as  to  be  made  dependent  upon  the  safety  of 
that  particular  spot. 

T.  Does  not  the  same  wise  arrangement  appear 
in  the  situation  of  the  other  senses  ? 

A.  The  situation  of  each  is  adapted  to  its  use. 
The  sense  of  smell,  which  makes  us  acquainted  with 
the  presence  of  odors,  of  which  the  air  is  the  vehicle, 
is  placed  in  a  continual  current  of  air  ;  that  is,  in  the 
nostrils.  In  this  situation,  it  not  only  best  enjoys 
what  is  agreeable  to  it,  but  by  thus  occupying  one  of 
the  main  passages  of  the  breathy  it  is  enabled  to  per- 
form the  important  office  of  apprizing  us  of  the  en- 
trance of  any  unwholesome  effluvia  into  the  lungs  ; 
air  unfit  for  respiration  being  usually  offensive  to  this 
sense.  As  most  substances  are  also  distinguishable 
by  their  odor  as  to  their  being  fit  or  unsuitable  for 
food,  especially,  it  is  said,  in  dumb  animals,  it  is 
striking  to  observe  that  the  position  of  the  smell  is 
immediately  over  the  passage  where  every  thing 
must  enter  that  we  eat.  The  sense  of  taste,  discov- 
ers the  same  evidence  of  design.  We  can  assign  no 
reason  why  it  is  placed  within  the  cavity  of  the 
mouth,  except,  that  to  enjoy  our  food,  the  faculty  of 
tasting  it  must  be  situated  where  the  food  is  broken  ; 
and^not  only  so,  but  where  the  food  is  received,  and 


NATURAL    TJSEOLOGY.  33 

masticated  ;  that  is,  not  over  the  mouth,  but  within 
it.  The  sense  of  feehng  completes  this  wonderful 
arrangement,  by  having  no  particular  situation  assign- 
ed to  it.  Being  spread  over  every  part,  it  warns  us 
of  dangers  of  which  we  could  not  have  been  apprized 
by  our  other  senses.  It  would  have  been  exceeding- 
ly unfortunate,  if  we  must  have  had  to  see  every  nail 
and  splinter  before  we  could  draw  back  from  a  dan- 
gerous puncture  ;  or  could  only  know  we  were 
scorching  up,  by  observing  the  smoke.  We  can  offer 
no  natural  explanation  why  this  particular  sense 
happens  to  be  extended  over  the  whole  body.  The 
eye  can  perform  its  duty  from  one  little  spot  in  the 
head  ;  and  why  the  sense  of  feeling  should  not  have 
been  confined  to  the  head  also,  we  can  only  answer, 
because  it  is  a  sense  which  cannot  perceive  at  a  dis- 
tance, but  must  be  present  at  every  part,  where  its 
office  is  required. 

T.  You  might  have  added  another  fact  respecting 
feeling,  or,  more  properly  speaking,  the  touch ;  that 
it  is  thi3  most  nice  and  delicate,  where  we  have  the 
most  occasion  for  its  use,  viz.  in  the  ends  of  the  fin- 
gers ;  though  it  is  said  to  be  more  delicate  in  the  tip 
of  the  tongue. 

B.  Is  it  not  stated  that  there  are  more  nerves,  in 
proportion,  in  the  fingers,  than  in  most  other  parts  of 
the  body  ?  and  we  use  the  sense  of  touch  more  in 
this  part  also,  which  must  tend  by  practice  to  render 
it  more  perfect. 

T.  The  mechanism  of  touch  exists  in  perfection 
in  the  ball  of  the  finger.     But  whatever  the  reason 


36  SENSES. 

may  be  of  the  superior  delicacy  of  the  power  in  this 
part — and  there  are  several  reasons,  the  fact  is  a 
happy  one,  especially  for  blind  persons.  No  doubt 
you  have  heard  of  many  curious  instances. 

A.  The  blind  have  been  said  to  detect  a  joint 
by  the  finger,  which  others  were  unable  to  discover 
with  the  eye.  It  is  mentioned,  they  are  now  learn- 
ing to  read  print  merely  by  feeling  the  indentations 
made  upon  the  paper  by  the  types. 

B.  Have  they  not  also  been  said  to  feel  colors  ? 
though  this  seems  incredible. 

T.  As  every  color  requires  a  different  substance 
to  produce  it,  it  is  only  supposing  every  coloring 
matter  to  be  different  in  the  shape  or  arrangement  of 
the  particles  of  which  it  is  composed,  to  account  for 
an  extreme  delicacy  of  touch  being  able  to  distin- 
guish it.  You  have  spoken  of  the  touch  as  becom- 
ing improved,  when  other  senses  are  wanting.  Is 
this  compensating  providence  confined  to  the  touch  ? 

A.  It  extends  to  all  the  senses.  It  has  been 
observed  of  persons  who  have  been  deprived  of  any 
particular  sense,  that  peculiar  power  and  delicacy 
seem  bestowed  on  those  which  remain.  Thus,  blind 
persons  are  not  only  often  distinguished  by  the  ex- 
quisiteness  of  their  touch ;  but,  the  deaf  and  dumb, 
who  gain  all  their  knowledge  through  the  eye,  are 
remarkable  for  the  keenness  with  which  they  make 
use  of  this  channel  of  observation. 

B.  I  should  think  one  of  the  most  extraordinary 
instances,  if  we  may  judge  from  recent  accounts, 
might  now  be  found  in  our  own  country.     It  is  men- 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  37 

tioned  that  there  is  a  pupil  in  the  Hartford  Asylum, 
who  is  entirely  deaf,  dumb,  and  blind,  and  her  touch 
and  smell  are  so  exceedingly  heightened,  especially 
the  latter,  that  it  seems  to  have  acquired  the  proper- 
ties of  a  new  sense,  and  to  transcend  even  the  sagacity 
of  a  spaniel.  At  her  first  reception  into  the  Asylum, 
she  immediately  busied  herself  in  quietly  exploring 
the  size  of  the  apartments,  and  the  height  of  the 
stair  cases  ;  she  even  knelt  and  smelled  fo  the 
thresholds ;  and,  now,  as  if  by  the  union  of  a  myste- 
rious geometry  with  a  powerful  memory,  never  makes 
a  false  step  upon  a  flight  of  stairs  or  enters  a  wrong 
door,  or  mistakes  her  seat  at  the  table.  Her  simple 
wardrobe  is  systematically  arranged,  and  it  is  impos- 
sible to  displace  a  single  article  in  her  drawers  without 
her  perceiving  and  restoring  it.  She  executes  the 
most  beautiful  work ;  she  gathers  the  first  flowers 
with  a  delight  bordering  on  transport.  Without  ever 
having  been  sick  herself,  she  so  readily  comprehends 
the  efficacy  and  benevolence  of  the  medical  profession, 
that  she  has  been  known,  upon  a  physician  placing  her 
finger  upon  her  pulse — to  lead  him  immediately  to 
the  chamber  of  one  of  the  pupils  whose  absence  by 
sickness  she  had  niysteriously  detected.  She  distin- 
guishes the  return  of  the  Sabbath — and  appears  sa- 
credly to  observe  it,  as  those  intimately  acquainted 
with  her  habits  assert.* 

T.     And  all  this  merely  by  the  aid  of  two  senses, 
the  touch  and  the  smell !     What  a  comment  upon  the 

*  Mrs.  Sigourney's  very  interesting  account  in  the  Juvenile 
Miscellany. 


38 


SENSES. 


inward  powers  of  man,  when  they  can  accomplish  so 
much  with  so  little  external  intercourse,  or  percep- 
tion. But  speaking  of  the  sense  of  feeling,  are  not 
many  parts  of  the  body  so  exposed  to  be  chafed  and 
worn  away  by  severe  rubbing,  as  must  be  apt  to  ren- 
der the  delicacy  of  this  sense  very  painful  to  us  ? 

A.  There  was  an  evident  foresight  of  this  very 
difficulty ;  and  it  is  curious  to  see  how  it  has  been 
provided  against.  The  sailor  covers  his  ropes  with 
leather  where  he  knows  they  will  be  likely  to  be 
frayed.  He  always  carries  leather  to  sea  with  him 
for  this  purpose.  But  this  is  nothing  to  what  nature 
has  done.  We  may  notice  her  contrivance  upon  the 
bottom  of  the  heel.  It  is  the  scale  or  crust  we  there 
observe,  and  which  is  produced  altogether  by  the  con- 
stant rubbing  and  pressing  of  the  foot  in  walking,  as 
infants  have  no  such  cases  upon  their  heels.  We  see 
the  same,  or  what  resembles  it,  in  the  hands,  and 
wherever  the  skin  is  subjected  to  hard  usage.  By 
being  tender  of  the  part  for  a  short  time,  the  case  dis- 
appears, and  the  skin  returns  to  its  ordinary  state. 
The  leather  comes  upon  the  rope,  of  its  own  accord, 
and  gradually  goes  off,  as  it  ceases  to  be  wanted. 

B,  What  a  happy  provision,  especially  for  the 
poor  laborer!  The  rock  is  made  to  give  him  his 
gloves. 

T.  Are  there  any  remarkable  varieties  in  animals, 
with  respect  to  the  senses  ? 

A.  It  is  observable  that  in  the  fish  the  organs  of 
smell  are  placed  on  the  outside,  at  the  extremity  of 
the  muzzle,  so  as  to  receive  impressions  from  the 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  39 

water,  as  the  fish  swims  forward.  It  is  also  noticed 
that  the  animals  which  have  the  sense  of  smelling  in 
the  greatest  perfection,  are  those  which  live  by  hunt- 
ing, and  .have  occasion  to  trace  their  prey  to  the 
greatest  distance. 


THE    EYE. 


T.     What  evidences  of  design  may  be  discovered 
in  the  eye  ? 

A.  If  any  instrument  may  be  said  to  exhibit  con- 
trivance, it  is  this  admirable  and  beautiful  little  organ. 
The  eye  is  made  almost  precisely  upon  the  model 
of  a  telescope  or  spying-glass.  There  is  the  same 
general  kind  of  mechanism  ;  the  same  principles  ap- 
plied ;  the  same  knowledge  discovered  of  the  laws 
and  properties  of  light ;  only  the  construction  of  the 
eye  is  much  more  ingeniously  adapted  to  these  laws, 
and  parts  for  the  same  purposes  are  contrived  to 
much  better  effect,  than  in  any  other  telescope.  In 
short,  an  eye  taken  to  pieces,  for  this  is  necessary  to 
form  any  idea  of  it,  is  such  a  wonderful  spying-glass, 
that  it  has  taught  the  best  telescope  makers  how  to 
improve  their  own  instruments.  It  discovers  several 
curious  contrivances,  of  which  the  most  skilful  artists 
had  never  dreamt.  Some  of  them  are  so  wonderful, 
^        that  we  shall  probably  never  be  able  to  imitate  them  ; 


40  Et^E. 

but  they  will  always  leave  the  eye,  it  is  likely,  ther 
most  finished  instrument  of  the  kind,  that  ever  was  or 
ever  can  be  made. 

B.  One  must  be  quite  learned,  then,  about  teles- 
copes to  understand  the  construction  of  the  eye. 

T.  The  more  learned  the  better ;  but  every  one 
must  understand  enough  for  the  present  purpose.  If 
you  have  ever  pulled  out  the  tube  of  a  spying-glass, 
and  unscrewed  the  joints,  you  know  it  contains  seve- 
ral little  rounded  glasses ; — ^it  is  these  glasses  that 
make  the  telescope.  The  eye  is  just  such  another 
instrument ;  so  that  when  we  are  espying,  we  may 
say  there  are  two  telescopes, — ^the  one  in  our  hand, 
and  the  other  in  our  head ;  and  the  use  of  the  one 
without;  is  to  assist  the  one  which  is  within  in  seeing 
further.  They  are  both  constructed  on  the  same 
principles.     You  may  describe  the  eye. 

A.  The  principal  parts  of  the  eye  are,  as  in  other 
telescopes,  rounded  glasses,  or  substances  which  re- 
semble them,  and  which  answer  the  same  end,  though 
they  are  not  of  glass.  They  are  all  situated  in  the 
ball.  The  front  of  the  ball  is  covered  with  a  transpa- 
rent skin,  which  is  termed  the  cornea,  from  a  Latin 
word  signifying  horn,  because  it  has  a  certain  resem- 
blance to  a  very  delicate  shaving  of  this  substance. 
It  is  a  little  thicker  in  the  middle  than  towards  the 
edges,  and  has  in  a  degree  the  same  effect  as  a  mag- 
nifying or  telescope  glass.  Next  to  this  is  a  fluid, 
commonly  called  the  aqueous  humor,  and  which  will 
run  out  when  the  eye  is  pricked.  It  derives  its  name 
from  the  Latin  word  for  water.     It  fills  the  forward 


Katural  theology. 


41 


part  of  the  ball,  and  is  kept  in  a  round  form  by  the 
shape  of  the  eye.  It  serves  the  same  purpose  as  the 
magnifying  glasses  which  are  used  in  telescopes  ;  it 
being  well  known  that  a  round  drop  of  water  will 
magnify  like  a  piece  of  glass  of  the  same  shape.  Next, 
and  immediately  behind  this  water  glass,  if  we  may 
so  term  it,  we  come  to  a  curtain,  called  the  irisy 
stretching  entirely  across  from  side  to  side,  with  a 
small  round  hole  in  the  middle.  This  hole  is  named 
the  pupil.  We  see  the  same  in  a  spying-glass  ;  it 
being  found  to  increase  the  clearness  of  the  sight, 
when  the  light  passes  through  a  little  aperture.  In 
telescopes  the  contrivance  is  what  the  instrument  ma- 
kers call  the  field.  This  is  a  plate  of  brass  inside  the 
tube,  perforated  in  the  middle  with  a  small  round 
hole  directly  in  a  line  with  the  centre  of  the  glass  be- 
fore which  the  field  is  placed.  This  contrivance  is 
found  to  improve  the  instrument  by  not  permitting 

Fig.     4^5. 


A  telescope  glass,  I,  with  its  curtain  before  it,  a  a,  in  which  there 
is  an  aperture  at  the  centre  :  being  a  precise  imitation  of  the 
eye,  where  the  same  parts  are  indicated  ia  the  Figure  by  the 
same  letters ;  viz.  1,  the  principal  glass  of  the  eye,  called  the 
chrystaline  ;  a  a,  the  iris,  with  the  pupil  in  the  middle. 
D  2 


42 


UTE. 


the  passage  of  any  light  but  what  enters  about  mid- 
way of  the  glasses.  To  this  structure  there  is  a  won- 
derful resemblance  in  the  natural  telescope  ;  the  iris 
being  the  field ;  and  the  pupil  answering  to  the  little 
aperture  in  the  field,  it  being  exactly  before  the  cen- 
tre of  the  principal  glass  of  the  eye..  (See  Fig.  4 
and  5.) 

But  the  hole  in  the  eye,  which  is  called  the  pupil, 
is  made  to  answer  another  purpose.  It  enlarges  or 
contracts,  to  suit  the  quantity  of  light,  s6  that  in  a 
bright  sun  too  much  light  may  not  be  admitted  into 
the  eye ;  which  would  be  painful  and  injurious.  If 
we  examine  the  eye  of  a  person  by  bringing  up  a  can-' 
die,  we  shall  see  this  opening  diminish,  as  the  light  in- 
creases ;  or,  if  we  darken  the  eye  with  our  hands,  and 
suddenly  remove  them,  we  shall  notice  the  same  eflfect. 
The  curtain,  which  we  term  the  iris,  has,  in  different 
persons,  different  colors  around  the  pupil  in  front,  ma- 
king that  painted  circle  we  observe  in  the  middle  of 
the  eye  ;  in  some  people,  black,  in  others,  blue,  he. 
It  has  been  remarked,  that  it  is  generally  either  light 
or  dark,  according  to  the  color  of  the  hair.  Behind 
the  pupil  is  situated  the  next  glass  of  the  eye,  called 
the  chrysialine  humor.*  This  is  still  more  rounded ; 
and  is  of  a  gristly  substance,  but  perfectly  clear  and 
transparent ;    and  is  the  most  powerful  glass  in  the 

•  A  small  portion  of  the  aqueous  humor  is  situated  between  th» 
pupil  and  the  chrystaline  ;  but  this  is  not  of  essential  impor- 
tance in  the  present  description.  One  use  of  this  mtermediate 
water  is  supposed  to  be,  to  moisten  the  iris,  and  enable  this 
important  curtain  to  perform  its  office  with  more  ease. 


NATURAL    THBOLOGT.  43 

eye.  It  is  the  little  ball  we  take  out  of  a  fish's  eye. 
Immediately  behind  the  chrystaline,  is  situated  the 
last  glass  of  the  eye,  something  in  the  shape  of  the 
water  glass  in  front,  and  is  called  the  vitreous  humor y 
.  from  its  resemblance  to  melted  glass.  The  light,  by 
passing  through  all  these  glasses,  so  to  term  them,  is 
drawn  to  a  little  round  spot,  such  as  is  made  by  a 
burning-glass ;  and  this  spot  contains  an  image  of  the 
object  at  which  we  look.  Thus,  if  we  hold  up  a 
a  spectacle  or  telescope  glass  between  the  window 
and  a  sheet  of  paper,  there  will  be  a  small  bright  spot 
on  the  paper,  and  in  that  spot  we  shall  see  the  image 
of  the  window  and  the  objects  on  the  outside.  The 
glasses  in  the  eye  do  the  same  ;  and  it  is  so  contrived, 
that  the  image  falls  exactly  upon  the  delicate  sub- 
stance of  the  nerve  which  is  spread  out  on  tlie  back 
part  of  the  eye,  like  a  sheet  of  paper,  and  is  called 
the  retina.  If  the  skin  on  the  hinder  part  of  an  ox's 
eye  be  carefully  removed,  and  the  eye  be  held  up  to 
the  window,  the  images  of  objects  in  the  street  will 
be  seen  distinctly  painted  on  the  back,  where  the  re- 
tina is  situated.  If  any  injury  happen  to  the  eye  to 
prevent  the  image  from  being  formed,  we  are  unable 
to  see.  This,  therefore,  is  the  demonstration  of  de- 
sign,— nature  requiring  an  image  for  the  purposes  of 
vision,  has  furnished  an  instrument  perfectly  adapted 
to  produce  it ;  a  mechanical  and  complicated  instru- 
ment ;  in  sh(5rt,  a  literal  telescope. 

T.     You  spoke  of  the  roundness  of  the  eyeball. 
Is  it  a  perfect  sphere  ? 


44 


SYB. 


A.  Not  exactly.  The  front  projects  beyond  the 
general  curvature.  The  effect  is,  the  compass  of 
our  vision  is  enlarged,  and  we  can  see  further  around 
us,  than  if  this  part  of  the  eye  were  not  so  protu- 
berant. 

B.  What  a  multiplicity  of  provisions  for  the  per- 
fection of  this  beautiful  and  noble  organ. 


Fii 


6. 


e,  aqueous  humor,  t,  t,  iris,  o,  pupil,  d,  chrystaline  humor. 
e,  e,  vitreous  humor.  a,  a,  rays  of  light  crossing  at  the  pu- 
pil, and  passing  from  the  object  a,  a,  to  form  the  image  on 
the  retina,   a,  a.     f,   optic  nerve. 

T.  In  speaking  of  the  pupil,  do  you  remember 
what  is  stated  as  to  the  contrivance  by  which  it  is  al- 
ways kept  in  a  round  form  ? 

A.  The  constant  exactness  of  the  circle,  notwith- 
standing its  changing  its  dimensions  almost  every  mo- 
ment, has  .been  always  mentioned  as  a  curious  phe- 
nomenon. No  artist  would  find  it  easy  to  imitate  this 
contrivance.  It  has  been  supposed  to  be  effected  by 
means  of  fibres  or  threads  in  the  iris,  so  arranged  with 
reference  to  the  central  opening  as  to  enlarge  or  con- 
tract it  like  a  purse ;  though  some  anatomists  are  not 
entirely  satisfied  how  it  is  produced.     They  say  the 


NATURAL   THEOLOGY.  45 

apparatus  is  so  delicate  and  obscure  that  they  cannot 
decide  upon  its  true  character. 

B.  There  must  be  some  wonderful  mechanism 
about  this  aperture,  the  membrane  of  the  iris  must  be 
exceedingly  sensitive  to  feel  every  change  of  the  light 
so  immediately. 

T.  Why,  here  is  another  remakable  fact,  which 
shews  what  amazing  design  runs  through  every  part 
of  our  structure.  The  changes  in  the  pupil  are  to 
benefit  the  retina,  so  that  too  much  light  may  never 
fell  upon  this  tender  substance.  Now,  as  the  retina 
is  the  part  to  be  benefitted,  it  is  evidently  desirable 
that  this  should  have  the  management  of  the  pupil  by 
which  the  light  is  admitted.  Had  the  curtain,  or  iris, 
which  contains  the  pupil  contracted  or  enlarged  the 
opening  by  any  sensibility  which  it  has  itself  to  the 
light ;  and  this,  till  recently,  has  always  been  suppo- 
sed to  be  the  fact ;  it  is  easy  to  see,  that  the  tender- 
ness of  the  retina  might  sometimes  be  greater  or  less, 
than  that  of  the  curtain,  (for  it  often  varies), — and 
would  consequently  be  liable  to  suffer.  Do  you  re- 
collect any  notice  of  this  particular  ? 

A.  It  is  said,  by  a  late  valuable  writer,*  to  have 
been  ascertained  by  a  very  delicate  experiment,  that 
if  a  ray  of  light  be  admitted  into  the  eye  in  such  a  di- 
rection as  only  to  strike  upon  the  iris  or  curtain,  with- 
out passing  through  the  pupil — the  pupil  is  not  affect- 
ed— no  change  of  the  aperture  takes  place  ;  but  if  it 
enter  the  pupil,  and  thereby  fall  upon  the  retina,  a 
contraction  immediately  ensues.      The.  sensibiUty  is 


Pr.  J.  Ware,  of  Boston. 


46  EYE. 

lodged  not  in  the  coritr acting  part,  but  in  another 
part  at  a  distance  from  it,  for  whose  benefit  the  pro- 
vision is  designed. 

B.  It  seems  like  one  holding  a  screen  which  he 
spreads  or  folds  according  to  the  wish  of  the  person 
whom  he  is  protecting.  No  wonder  it  should  be  said, 
the  eye  is  a  cure  for  atheism.  We  can  suppose  the 
Almighty  Creator  could  have  enabled  us  to  see  with- 
out all  this  machinery  ; — but  then,  observing  the  ma- 
chinery makes  us  more  sensible  of  an  actual  Architect 
in  our  frame.  Still  there  appears  to  be  one  difference 
between  the  eye  and  a  telescope.  If  we  look  with  a 
telescope  or  spying-glass  at  a  far  object,  as  a  vessel 
upon  the  ocean,  and  then  turn  it  to  a  person  standing 
by  us  at  a  few  feet  distant,  we  find  we  are  now  un- 
able to  see  :  but  it  is  not  so  with  the  eye.  Our  sight 
is  not  affected  by  any  moderate  change  of  distance. 
What  can  be  the  reason  ? 

A.  The  reason  is,  and  it  is  a  new  reason  for  ad- 
miring the  eye,  that  the  spying-glass  requires  to  be  al- 
tered, or  fixed  anew,  before  we  can  see  a  near  object, 
after  looking  at  a  distant  one.  Now  this  is  done  in 
our  eyes  in  an  instant.  In  the  spying-glass,  we  have 
to  pull  out  or  thrust  in  a  tube,  so  as  to  change  the 
distances  of  the  glasses  from  one  another, — or  else 
put  in  glasses  of  a  different  form.  There  is  exactly 
the  same  or  a  similar  contri«vance  in  the  eye.  It  is 
difficult  to  describe  it,  it  is  so  exceedingly  curious, 
But  the  effect  is  to  enable  the  eye  to  suit  its  glasses 
imraedialely  to  the  different  distances  at  which  we 
have  occasion  to  look. 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  47 

B.  It  must  be  very  perfect ;  when  we  think  how 
quickly  we  can  glance  from  one  object  to  another, — 
from  surveying  a  sta?-  to  threading  a  needle.  Still, 
one  would  hardly  have  thought  there  was  occasion 
for  all  this  machinery  to  enable  the  eye  to  do  what  it 
appears  to  do  in  such  cases,  without  any  exertion ; — 
and  yet  we  can  feel  there  is  some  apparatus  at  work 
about  our  eyes,  which  seems  to  strain  when  we  try  to 
look  at  an  object  close  up  to  our  faces,  or  at  a  very 
unusual  distance. 

T.  We  have  had  a  wonderful  account  of  this  or- 
gan of  the  eye.  But  it  is  worthy  a  more  minute  de- 
scription still.  Its  Divine  Architect  has  introduced 
contrivance  upon  contrivance,  to  render  it  the  most 
surprising  telescope  that  was  ever  made.  You  may 
go  on  with  the  description. 

A.  In  telescopes  it  is  necessary,  and  the  discove- 
ry is  a  somewhat  late  one,  that  the  glasses  should  not 
all  be  of  one  Icind  of  glass.  Though  most  persons 
are  not  in  the  habit  of  observing  it,  for  it  requires  a 
close  attention,  yet  it  is  a  truth  with  regard  to  every 
telescope  or  magnifying  glass,  let  it  be  formed  of  what 
kind  of  glass  it  may,  that  it  produces  a  rainbow  ap- 
pearance, or  variety  of  colors  about  the  little  bright 
spot  or  image  where  the  light  is  collected.  The  rea- 
son is  this.  "  Light  consists  of  different  colored  parts, 
as  Sir  Isaac  Newton  discovered,  some  of  which  are 
sooner  collected  by  the  glass,  or  more  quickly  drawn 
to  a  little  circle  or  image,  than  the  others ;  the  conse- 
quence of  which  is,  when  we  hold  up  a  burning-glass 
or  a  telescope  glass  to  the  sun,  the  lights  of  different 


48  ,         EYE. 

colors  come  to  a  point  at  different  distances,  and  thus 
create  several  circles,  which  makes  a  confusion. — 
This  was  long  found  to  make  our  telescopes  imper- 
fect, insomuch  that  it  became  necessary  to  make  them 
of  reflectors  or  mirrors,  and  not  of  magnifying  glas- 
ses.*' But  it  has  since  been  discovered,  that  if  cer- 
tain different  kinds  of  glass,  viz.  flint  glass  and  crown 
glass,  be  placed  together,  so  as  to  make  a  compound 
magnifier,  they  serve  to  correct  this  defect.  No  rain- 
bow is  then  produced.  The  improvement  was  intro- 
duced not  many  years  ago,  in  the  celebrated  teles- 
copes known  by  the  name  of  the  Dolland  telescopes. 
But  it  is  now  ascertained,  that  the  whole  discovery 
was  well  understood  in  the  first  telescope  that  ever 
was  constructed ;  that  is,  in  the  eye.  "  It  is  found 
that  the  different  natural  magnifiers  of  the  eye  are 
combined  upon  a  principle  of  the  same  kind."  What 
is  more  curious,  thirty  years  after  the  time  of  Dolland, 
a  discovery  was  made  by  Dr.  Blair,  of  Edinburgh,  of 
the  greatly  superior  effect  which  combinations  of  fluid 
and  solid  magnifiers  have  in  correcting  the  imperfec- 
tion ;  and,  most  wonderful  to  think,  when  the  eye  is 
examined,  we  find  it  contains  solid  and  fluid  magni- 
fiers combined,  acting  naturally  upon  the  same  prin- 
ciple which  was  thus  recently  found  out  by  many  in- 
genious mechanical  and  chemical  experiments. 

B.  One  can  hardly  understand  so  much  contri- 
vance ;  and  yet  it  is  beautiful  as  an  evidence  of  de- 
sign, and  of  an  all-^jise  Author,  to  find  so  much  ma- 
chinery in  the  eye,  which  shews  the  deepest  acquaint- 
ance with  philosophical  principles ;  and  to  know  that 


NATUBAL    THEOLOGY. 


49 


the  most  celebrated  artists  have  been  forestalled  and 
outdone  in  what  they  supposed  to  be  their  own  dis- 
coveries and  inventions. 

T.  There  is  another  imperfection  to  which  teles- 
cope glasses  are  subject,  and  it  has  occasioned  much 
trouble  and  perplexity  to  the  makers  of  these  instru- 
ments, but  which  affords  new  reason  to  admire  the 
h^nd  of  a  perfect  Artist  in  the  construction  of  the 
eye. 

A.  The  difficulty  has  been,  and  it  still  remains 
an  insuperable  difficulty,  to  make  any  magnifying  glas- 
ses, of  the  usual  shape,  act  equally  in  every  part. 
The  rays  of  light  which  pass  through  near  the  edge^ 
will  come  to  a  focus,  and  form  the  little  circle  or  im- 
age, before  those  do  which  pass  through  the  middle 
of  the  glass  ; — and  so  in  proportion,  at  every  inter- 
mediate point.  This  makes  numerous  images  ;  and 
although  the  different  images  are  all  sufficiently  uni- 
ted in  one,  for  common  purposes,  yet,  in  glasses 
intended  for  very  distinct  and  accurate  vision,  it 
has  been  found  a  very  serious  inconvenience.  It 
is  found  to  be  owing  to  the  form  of  the  glass,  as  the 
form  commonly  is,  which  is  that  of  a  spectacle  glass. 
This  form,  it  can  be  demonstrated,  has  less  power  at 
the  middle  than  at  the  more  distant  parts  of  the  glass. 
The  attempt  has  been  made,  by  changing  the  form,  to 
get  rid  of  this  difficulty  ;  and  by  great  skill  and  atten* 
tion,  the  improvement  perhaps  can  be  effected.  Sir 
Isaac  Newton  doubted  whether  it  ever  could  be  per- 
fectly effected.     But  there  is  another  remedy,  though 


50  EYE. 

beyond  our  ingenuity,  it  is  probable ;  and  that  is,  as 
the  difficulty  is  owing  to  the  form  of  the  glass  not 
being  so  powerful  in  the  middle,  to  increase  the  power 
by  making  the  middle  of  a  more  powerful  kind  of 
glass,  that  is,  of  a  more  dense  or  solid  kind.  Wonderful 
as  it  may  seem,  this  contrivance  is  actually  adopted  in 
the  eye.  The  chrystaline,  or  principal  glass  of  the 
eye,  is  of  greater  solidity  toward  the  middle.  The 
solidity  increases  from  the  edge  to  the  centre.  For 
the  glasses  in  a  telescope  to  possess  the  same  advan- 
tage, it  would  be  necessary  they  should  each  be  made 
of  innumerable  kinds  of  glass,  gradually  increasing  in 
solidity,  from  the  edge  to  the  middle  of  the  glass. 
This  can  hardly  be  done  ;  and  hence  the  eye  exhibits 
an  example  of  telescopical  knowledge  and  ingenuity 
which  stands  unrivalled. 

B.  This  is  all  new  information.  If  one  could  not 
understand  a  word,  it  would  be  delightful  to  hear  of 
all  this  curious  philosophy  in  our  eyes ;  because  it 
seems  a  signal  illustration  of  divine  wisdom  and  in- 
telligence. 

T.  Are  there  any  other  respects  in  which  this 
wonderful  organ  displays  the  same  sort  of  superiority  ? 

A.  Yes,  there  is  one  no  less  remarkable.  The 
light  which  comes  from  an  object  into  a  spying-glass 
or  telescope,  and  by  which  the  object  is  seen,  does 
not  all  reach  the  eye.  A  part  of  it  is  thrown  back 
from  every  glass  in  the  instrument;  and  this  is  no 
benefit  but  a  disadvantage.  But  there  is  no  remedy. 
It  is  a  settled  principle  with  respect  to  light,  that 
when  it  passes  from  the  air  into  a  telescope,  some  of 


.^.. 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  51 

it  will  be  reflected,  or  thrown  back  in  this  manner ; 
— or,  more  generally,  the  principle  is  this :  when 
light  passes  from  air  into  glass,  or  from  water  into 
glass — or  from  any  such  substance  into  another  of  a 
different  kind,  though  most  of  it  will  be  transmitted,  a 
portion  will  be  stopped  at  the  surface,  and  be  thrown 
back  or  reflected.  The  glistening  upon  the  surface 
of  a  bright  window  is  this  effect.  The  light,  in  pass- 
iHg  from  the  air  into  the  window,  undergoes  a  reflec- 
tion, in  some  measure,  at  the  surface  of  the  glass.  It 
is  because  the  air  and  the  glass  are  not  the  same  sub- 
stance. There  is  the  same  glistening  upon  the  sur- 
face of  the  ocean  ;  but  there  is  none  within  the  ocean 
itself;  because  the  water  continues  the  same.  How 
it  should  fail  to  be  quite  considerable  in  the  eye, 
when  there  are  no  less  than  three  different  kinds  of 
substances  through  which  the  light  must  pass,  has 
been  a  question.  It  is  stated  that  there  is  a  most 
curious  and  provident  contrivance  which  meets  this 
difficulty.  Notwithstanding  the  three  substances  in 
the  eye  differ,  generally  speaking,  like  air,  water  and 
glass,  though  the  difference  is  less ;  yet,  where  they 
touch,  and  where  the  light  passes  from  one  to  the 
other,  and  where  it  must  be  reflected,  if  reflected  at 
all,  they  are  nearly  of  the  same  substance.  The 
middle  one,  which  is  the  chrystalline,  and  which  is 
quite  solid  toward  the  centre,  diminishes  its  consis- 
tency on  its  two  opposite  sides,  to  approach  that  of 
the  vitreous  behind,  and  that  of  the  aqueous  before. 
Thus,  there  is  less  chance  for  the  light  to  be  thrown 
back  or  reflected  from  the  glasses ;  the  principle  of 
the  reflection  requiring  that  the  light,  in  passing  from 


52 


EYE. 


one  substance  to  another,  should  find  a  sudden  differ- 
ence. Such  is  the  structure  of  the  eye ;  discovering 
such  perfect  acquaintance  with  some  of  the  most 
curious  properties  of  light ;  and  uniting  philosophi- 
cal contrivances,  various,  as  they  are  admirable  and 
inimitable. 

T.  Speaking  of  the  reflection  of  the  light,  do  you 
understand  why  the  inside  of  a  spying-glass  is  always 
painted  hlack  around  the  glasses  ? 

A.  To  prevent  the  glistening  of  that  portion  of 
the  light  which  strikes  against  the  sides  of  the  tube. 
There  is  a  similar  provision  in  our  eyes.  The  inside 
lining  on  the  back  part  of  the  eye,  called  the  choroid 
coat,  is  blackened  over  with  a  substance  termed  the 
pigmentum  nigrum,  hlack  pigment,  or  paint.  In 
many  animals,  such  as  cats,  owls,  &;c.,  this  paint  is  of 
a  bright  color  which  reflects  the  light.  The  precise 
object  of  the  difference  seems  yet  to  be  a  subject  of 
inquiry.  Some  have  conjectured  that  it  enables  the 
animal  to  see  better  in  the  dark.  It  has,  no  doubt, 
some  design.  It  is  ascertained  in  our  own  eyes,  that 
if  from  any  cause  the  black  pigment  happens  to  be 
wanting,  the  sight  is  injuriously  affected.  The  sin- 
gular persons  called  'Albinos,  from  a  Latin  word  sig- 
nifying white,  have  no  such  pigment  in  their  eyes  ; 
and  it  is  found  their  vision  is  extremely  imperfect  in 
a  bright  light ;  so  that  they  can  scarcely  see  how  to 
direct  themselves. 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY. 


53 


Securities    of  the  Eye. 

T.  In  a  tekscope  it  is  necessary  the  glasses 
should  be  preserved  from  the  least  scratch,  dust,  or 
injury  ;  how  is  this  managed  in  the]  eye  ? 

A.  The  principal  securhy  is  the  eye-lid.  This 
active  little  shutter  seems  almost  animated  with  a 
sense  of  the  important  office  assigned  it.  It  closes 
immediately,  as  if  of  its  own  accord,  whenever  any 
thing  approaches  very  near  the  eye.  Every  person 
is  sensible  how  hard  it  is  to  keep  from  winking  in 
such  a  case,  even  though  challenged  to  do  it  if  he 
can.  It  seems  to  be  one  of  the  natural  securities 
provided  originally  by  the  all-wise  Architect ;  for  we 
discover  the  same  in  infants.  It  is  not,  therefore,  the 
result  of  habit  or  experience.  It  is  a  further  mark  of 
design,  that  the  shutter  shoald  be  made  in  two  parts ; 
the  eye,  of  course,  is  sooner  covered  by  dividing  the 
duty  between  them ;  nor  is  this  the  only  advantage. 
The  middle  of  the  ball,  being  the  spot  where  the 
light  enters,  by  having  two  shutters,  the  one  above 
and  the  other  below,  we  are  enabled  to  see,  and  to 
cover  our  eyes  at  the  same  time :  that  is,  to  cover 
them,  all  but  a  little  space  ;  whereas  with  a  single 
lid,  one  half  of  the  front  must  always  have  been  open 
and  exposed,  to  enable  us  to  see  at  all. 

B.  What  perfect  mechanism  !  How  admirable 
the  whole  art  of  divine  wisdjm  in  the  formation  of 
this  fine  organ ! 

T,     Very  perfect  for  a  shutter ;  but  still  a  dehcate 
place  for  a  shutter  to  be  employed.     You  may  judge 
£  2 


54  KTE. 

of  this,  by  touching  your  eye  with  your  finger,  or  let- 
ting the  nib  of  a  pen  fly  into  it.  What  is  to  prevent 
a  constant  suffering,  with  a  shutter  rubbing  directly 
and  immediately  upon  the  eye  at  every  wink  ? 

A.  A  wonderful  apparatus  evinces  how  distinctly 
this  danger  has  been  foreseen.  An  oily  liquor  is 
continually  oozing  out  from  a  row  of  little  glands 
resembling  bags  and  situated  at  the  roots  of  the  eye- 
lashes. There  is  also  another  wash :  this  is  thinner 
and  in  much  greater  quantity.  We  call  it  the  tears. 
The  tears  help  to  lubricate  the  eye ;  and,  besides, 
answer  another  purpose.  The  lids  could  not  have 
squeezed  out  the  dust ;  a  water  was  necessary  to 
carry  it  off.  It  is  found  also  that  when  the  ball  hap- 
pens to  become  dry,  it  loses  its  clearness  and  trans- 
parency in  some  degree.  Now  with  reference  to 
hoth  these  uses,  it  is  admirable  to  notice  how  many 
little  circumstancs  are  made  to  increase  the  tears, 
when  the  tears  are  the  most  wanted.  Thus  our  eyes 
water  the  most  in  the  wind,  which  would  otherwise 
immediately  dry  them  ; — and  any  offending  body 
falling  into  the  eye  produces  the  same  effect. 

B.  The  flow  of  the  tears  is  an  exquisite  contri- 
vance ;  but  what  becomes  of  the  wash  ?  It  cannot 
remain  pure  for  a  long  time. 

A.  To  complete  this  wonderful  structure,  there  is 
a  provision  for  this  also.  There  is  situated  at  the 
inner  corner  of  the  eye,  an  outlet  which  empties  into 
the  nose,  and  by  which  the  tears  are  discharged.  It 
is  the  same  contrivance  as  the  dripping  hole  to  a 
water  trough,  which  continually  carries  off  the  water, 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  55 

and  permits  a  constant  renewal  from  the  fountain. 

Fig,     7. 


A  reservoir  for  water — exhibiting  the  fountain  and  outlet. 


This  outlet  in  the  eye  is  furnished  with  two  small  ori- 
fices, which  the  anatomists  call  puncta  lachryma  lia, 
or  tear  holes.  The  water  is  conducted  along  within 
the  eye  by  a  structure  of  the  lids,  not  very  easy  to 
describe ;  but  entirely  mechanical,  and  the  effect  of 
which  is  to  incline  the  tears  to  run  easily  to  the  open- 
ing. The  winking  of  the  lids  is  a  part  of  the  contri- 
vance ;  it  presses  the  water  toward  the  place  of  dis- 
charge ;  and  hence  the  quickened  motion  of  the  eye- 
lids when  persons  are  endeavoring  to  conceal  a  tear. 

B.  This  now  explains  the  disease  we  sometimes 
see  in  those  whose  tears  run  down  in  a  constant  stream 
upon  the  outside  of  their  faces. 

T.  Yes,  and  a  very  serious  disease  it  is  :  the  t)ri- 
fices  are  closed  up.  Many  persons  have  submitted  to 
the  painful  operation  which  is  rarely  successful,  of 
having  the  outlet  opened  anew  by  artificial  means. 
We  see,  therefore,  the  kind  intention  which  provided 
the  opening  in  the  first  instance.  "  It  is  easily  per- 
ceived the  eye  must  want  moisture ;    but  could  the 


56  EYE. 


want  of  the  eye  generate  the  gland  which  produces 
the  tear,  or  bore  the  hole  by  which  it  is  discharged, 
— a  hole  through  a  bone  !  " 


1,  the  lachrymal  gland,  the  source  of  the  tears.  &,  the  channels 
or  ducts  which  lead  the  tears  from  the  lachrymal  gland  into 
the  eye.  c,  c,  the  puncta  lachrymalia,  or  tear  holes,  which 
conduct  the  tears  into  the  outlet  or  lachrymal  sac,  by  which 
they  are  discharged  into  the  nostril.  It  will  here  be  noticed, 
that  the  reservoir  precisely  resembles  the  eye,  not  only  as  to 
having  an  outlet,  but  as  to  the  fountain  being  in  both  cases 
elevated  above  the  place  of  reception.  Owing  to  this  circum- 
stance, the  tears  more  readily  enter  the  eye.  It  will  also  be 
observed,  that  in  each  instance  the  source  is  at  one  corner, 
and  the  outlet  at  the  opposite.  This  is  evidently  beneficial  to 
the  eye ;  as  hereby  the  tears  must  pass  the  entire  length  of 
the  organ,  and  lubricate  its  whole  surface,  before  they  are 
discharged. 

Are  there  any  other  respects  in  which  we  discover 
intentional  contrivance  for  the  security  of  the  eye  ? 

A.  It  is  lodged  in  a  strong,  bony  socket,  called 
the  orbit,  composed  of  several  bones,  the  upper  of 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  57 

which  is  arched  and  sustains  a  portion  of  the  brain. 
In  the  back  part  of  the  socket,  a  large  quantity  of 
fat  is  deposited,  on  which  the  ball  rests  as  upon  a 
cushion,  so  as  to  enjoy  easy  motion  in  every  direc- 
tion ;  and  it  is  because  this  cushion  is  apt  to  be  wast- 
ed by  disease,  the  eye  usually  appears  sunk  after  a 
long  sickness.  The  eyebrows  are  described  by  Socra- 
tes as  a  thatched  pent  house,  to  prevent  the  sweat  and 
moisture  from  running  down  into  the  eye.  The  eye- 
lashes are  another  additional  protection. 

B.  What  is  most  striking,  there  is  such  a  number 
of  these  protections,  the  lid,  the  socket,  the  brows, 
the  lashes,  the  tears,  displaying  an  extraordinary  de- 
gree of  care  and  solicitude,  proportionate  to  the  im- 
portance and  delicacy  of  the  organ ; — ^not  one  of 
which,  moreover,  as  we  can  see,  has  the  least  tenden- 
cy to  produce  another,  and  therein  presenting  the 
more  evidence  of  design.  But  notwithstanding  the 
perfection  of  this  wonderful  mechanism,  has  it  not 
been  said  that  there  is  a  certain  spot  on  the  part 
where  the  image  is  formed  which  is  insensible  ? 

A.  It  is  supposed  to  be  the  spot  where  the  nerve 
enters  the  eye  ;  but  the  manner  in  which  the  defect  is 
remedied  is  a  new  proof  of  the  wisdom  with  which  our 
eyes  are  made.  There  is  the  same  little  blind  spot, 
it  is  said,  in  both  eyes.  But  it  is  stated,  that  if  one 
eye  should  happen  to  be  insensible,  the  same  difficulty 
cannot  occur  in  the  other  at  the  same  time ;  or  both 
spots  cannot  blind  us  at  once ;  so  that  we  shall  never 
be  conscious  there  is  any  such  spot,  when  both  eyes 
are  open.     The  contrivance   is  this.      The   nerve, 


58  EYE. 

which  has  to  enter  somewhere  to  make  the  retina  on 
which  the  image  is  received,  does  not  enter  exactly 
at  the  centre,  but  a  Uttle  towards  the  nose.  Now, 
mathematicians  say,  that  owing  to  this  slight  vari- 
ation from  the  centre,  it  can  be  calculated  to  a  de- 
monstration, that  the  little  circle  or  image  in  the  eye, 
can  never  fall  on  both  insensible  parts  at  the  same 
time.  The  experiment  is  easily  tried.  Place  two 
small  circles  of  white  paper  upon  a  dark  colored  wall, 
at  the  height  of  the  eye,  and  at  the  distance  of  nearly 
two  feet  from  each  ,  other.  If  the  spectator,  at  a 
proper  distance,  shuts  his  right  eye,  and  looks  with  the 
left  directly  at  the  paper  on  his  right  hand,  he  will 
not  see  the  left  hand  paper,  although  the  objects 
around  it  are  visible.  But  let  both  eyes  be  opened, 
and  it  will  appear  distinctly. 


Varieties  of  Eyes. 

T.     Are  the  eyes  of  all  animals  constructed  alike  ? 

A.  The  differences  are  very  numerous  and  strik- 
ing. Besides  the  evidence  of  design  in  the  structure 
of  the  eye  itself,  we  have  a  further  proof  of  the  exist- 
ence of  wisdom  in  its  formation,  and  that  it  is  no  blind 
production  of  nature,  when  we  observe  that  the  sense 
of  seeing  is  not  given  to  all  animals  in  the  same  way, 
but  that  the  organs  are  varied  as  is  best  adapted  to 
the  different  kinds  of  animals.  The  varieties  extend 
to  almost  every  part  of  the  eye.     Fishes  have  a  re- 


NATURAL.    THEOLOGY.  59 

markable  peculiarity  in  their  eyes,  which  is  required 
by  the  nature  of  the  element  they  inhabit.  It  is  a 
fact  with  respect  to  light,  that  whenever  it  passes 
directly  from  water  into  a  magnifying  glass,  the  glass 
must  be  more  rounded,  in  order  to  produce  the  same 
effect  as  would  take  place,  if  the  glass  was  surrounded 
by  air.  Agreeably,  it  is  found,  that  the  chief  mag- 
nifier in  the  eyes  of  those  animals  which  inhabit  the 
water,  is  far  more  round  than  in  those  of  land  animals. 
The  structure  which  produces  the  tears  is  wanting  in 
fishes.  The  water  in  which  they  live  renders  the 
tears  unnecessary.  The  eel,  which  has  to  work  its 
way  in  the  mud  amid  the  hardest  and  roughest  sub- 
stances, is  provided  with  a  horny,  transparent  case 
for  the  eye,  which  protects  the  part  without  ob- 
structing the  vision.     The  frog  has  a  similar  security. 

B.  What,  pray,  can  the  frog  want  of  a  pair  of 
spectacles  ? 

T.  To  defend  the  eyes  from  the  sharp  edges  of 
the  spear-grass,  Sic,  among  which  these  little  crea- 
tures have  to  live.  But  you  may  give  the  descrip- 
tion. 

A.  As  the  progressive  motion  of  this  animal  is 
not  by  walking  but  by  leaping, — ^if  his  eyes  were  not 
provided  with  such  a  case,  he  must  either  shut  them, 
and  so  leap  blindfolded,  or,  by  leaving  them  open, 
must  run  the  risk  of  having  the  front  part  of  the  eye 
cut,  pricked,  or  otherwise  injured ;  but  this  mem- 
brane, like  a  kind  of  spectacle,  covers  the  eye  without 
taking  away  the  sight ;  and,  as  soon  as  the  occasion 


60  EYE. 

Ceases,  the  animal  withdraws  it  into  a  little  cell,  where 
it  rests  till  its  use  is  again  required. 

B.  A  pair  of  goggles,  and  a  pocket  to  keep  them 
in  !  If  this  be  not  design,  it  would  be  difficult  to  say 
what  would  be  so. 

A.  Many  birds  have  a  similar  security.  The  eye 
of  the  mole,  which  has  to  work  its  way  under  ground, 
is  singularly  suited  to  the  habits  of  this  animal.  Ev- 
ery thing  about  the  construction  of  this  little  creature, 
seems  to  decide  that  it  must  dig  the  earth  and  live  in 
the  ground.  The  form  of  the  feet,  for  example,  is 
like  that  of  so  many  shovels.  Unless  the  eye,  there- 
fore, were  adapted  to  such  a  mode  of  life,  the  situ- 
ation of  the  animal  would  be  truly  unfortunate.  This 
adaptation  exists.  ^'  The  eyes  of  this  little  pioneer 
are  scarcely  larger  than  the  head  of  a  pin,  and  are, 
besides,  sunk  down  very  deeply  into  the  skull.  To 
shelter  them  still  farther,  the  eyebrows,  if  so  they 
may  be  termed,  not  only  cover  the  eyes,  but  present 
a  considerably  large  prominence,  or  cushion  to  any 
sharp  or  protruding  substance  which  might  push 
against  them.  In  short,  the  eye  of  a  mole  looks  like 
a  pin  hole  in  a  piece  of  velvet." 

The  eyes  of  animals  which  catch  their  food  by 
night,  such  as  the  cat,  owl,  &tc.,  possess  a  faculty  not 
given  to  those  of  other  species,  viz.,  of  closing  the 
pupil  entirely.  By  this  means,  they  are  able  to  favor 
their  eyes  in  a  bright  sun,  and  avoid  the  glare  which 
must  needs  be  painful  to  such  eyes  as  theirs,  which 
have  to  be  made  very  delicate  and  sensitive  to  see  in 
the  dark ;  besides,  the  glare  must  injure  the  delicacy 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  6| 

of  the  eye.  Dr.  Herschell,  the  celebrated  astrono- 
mer, while  pursuing  his  nicest  observations,  was  in 
the  habit,  it  is  said,  of  practising  upon  this  very  prin- 
ciple ;  that  is,  of  covering  his  eyes  in  the  day,  to  in- 
crease the  sharpness  of  his  sight  in  the  night. 

It  has  been  often  noticed,  that  the  pupil  of  a  cat's 
eye,  and  that  of  several  other  animals,  is  not  round, 
like  our  own, — but  it  is  in  the  form  of  a  long  slit, 
reaching  from  the  top  to  the  bottom  of  the  eye.  It 
is  made  in  two  parts,  like  the  sliding  doors  of  a  mod- 
ern parlor,  so  as  to  admit  of  a  close  joint  to  exclude 
the  daylight  entirely  ;  or,  of  being  wholly  drawn 
back,  so  as  to  leave  no  obstruction  to  the  light,  in 
the  dark  places  the  animal  loves  to  frequent. 

T.  Is  the  number  of  eyes  the  same  in  all  ani- 
mals? 

A.  The  fly,  the  bee,  and  various  insects,  have 
many  eyes,  or  what  is  equivalent,  set  round  on  each 
side  of  the  head,  though  they  are  so  united,  as  to  re- 
semble only  two  eyes  at  the  first  inspection.  It  re- 
quires a  microscope  to  see  them,  and  the  appearance 
is  extremely  beautiful.  Some  insects,  it  is  compu- 
ted, have  as  many  as  several  thousand  eyes. 

T.  What  design  of  Providence  do  you  here  dis*- 
cover  ? 

A.  As  these  insects  have  no  motion  of  the  eye, 
they  would  labor  under  an  evident  disadvantage,  un- 
less their  organ  of  vision  was  a  kind  of  multiplying 
glass,  looking  in  every  quarter,  and  catching  every 
object. 


62 


EYE. 


Fig.     9. 


The  head  of  an  eel ;  the  skin  is  represented  as  turned  back. — 
m,  TO,  the  transparent  horny  coverings  of  the  eyes,  which 
being  situated  in  the  skin,  are  separated  with  it. 

T.     Upon  a  review  of  the  construction  and  prop- 
erties of  the  eye,  what   general  reflection  is  suggest 
ed  as  to  the  proofs  of  intelligence  and  wisdom  it  ex- 
hibits ? 

A.  That  it  embraces  so  many  distinct  and  inde- 
pendent contrivances,  not  one  of  which  has  any  tend- 
ency, as  was  observed,  to  produce  another;  that 
there  is  such  a  variety  of  provisions,  dissimilar  in 
their  nature,  and  which  nothing  but  design  could  have 
brought  together ;  giving  great  complexity  to  the  in- 
strument, but  each  adding  a  distinct  excellence.  The 
greater  the  variety,  and  the  more  intricate  the  struc- 
ture, the  more  evident  the  design.  The  eye  sees^  it 
may  be  said,  and  this  is  design  enough.  But  because 
the  eye  sees,  it  does  not  follow,  there  should  be  so 
many  provisions  to  enable  it  to  see  so  perfectly  ; — 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  Oo 

it  does  not  follow,  there  should  be  a  curious  mechan- 
ism by  which  it  can  adjust  its  glasses,  to  enjoy  the 
advantage  of  a  microscope  and  a  telescope  at  the 
same  time  ; — it  does  not  follow,  there  should  be  the 
contrivance  of  a  perforated  curtain,  by  which  the 
quantity  of  light  admitted  or  excluded  is  tempered  to 
the  delicate  sensibility  of  the  eye ; — it  does  not  fol- 
low, that  the  glasses  should  be  of  different  substances, 
or  so  constructed  as  to  contain  the  highest  improve- 
ment of  the  modern  telescope,  in  regard  to  prevent- 
ing a  certain  rainbow  appearance,  which  would  ob- 
scure the  sight ; — it  does  not  follow,  there  must  be  an 
increasing  consistency  of  the  principal  glass,  from  the 
edge  to  the  middle,  remedying  another  inconvenience 
to  which  all  the  telescope  glasses  of  the  same  form 
that  ever  were  or  can  be  made  are  unavoidably  sub- 
ject ; — it  does  not  follow,  that  the  principal  glass  must 
also  lessen  its  consistency  from  the  centre  to  the 
sides,  so  as  to  agree  and  make,  as  it  were,  one  sub- 
stance with  the  glasses  between  which  it  is  situated, 
thus  avoiding  another  difficulty  which  in  every  other 
telescope,  of  a  similar  nature,  is  perfectly  incurable  ; 
— it  does  not  follow,  that  the  nerve  of  the  eye,  which 
receives  the  image,  should  enter  a  little  out  of  the 
centre  towards  the  nose,  so  as  to  prevent  any  image 
from  being  lost  in  both  eyes  at  the  same  time ; — and, 
when  we  have  a  perfect  eye,  it  does  not  follow,  it 
should  be  so  well  protected,  and  preserved  so  con- 
stantly bright  and  fit  for  use ;  that  it  should  be  lodged 
in  a  bony  cavern  for  its  more  perfect  protection  from 
all  outward  violence,  with  a  soft,  flexible  veil  hang- 


64  EYE. 

ing  before  it,  susceptible  of  the  quickest  motions,  to 
be  interposed  upon  every  occasion, — and  furnished 
with  an  exquisite  contrivance  to  cleanse  and  moisten 
it,  and  a  conduit  to  conduct  off  the  liquid  which  has 
been  employed ;  and  even  then,  there  is  no  natural 
consequence  by  which  it  follows,  that  it  must  be  fit- 
ted with  such  a  complete  set  of  muscles  to  turn  it  in 
every  direction,  and  give  us  the  most  perfect  com- 
mand over  the  organ. 

T.  After  having  examined  the  most  wonderful 
instrument  with  which  we  are  acquainted,  and  with 
which  no  work  of  human  ingenuity  admits  of  compa- 
rison, it  is  quite  superfluous  to  extend  our  research  to 
other  parts  of  the  animal  structure,  for  any  purpose 
of  religious  conviction.  There  is  no  occasion  for 
multiplying  examples  of  contrivance,  to  prove  a  con- 
triver. The  organ  of  hearing  is  more  obscure  in 
some  parts  of  its  construction ;  but  as  it  exhibits  a 
new  description  of  philosophical  principles,  quite  as 
admirably  applied,  you  may  give  some  account  of 
this  structure.  What  traces  of  a  Divine  Intelligence 
do  you  discover  in  the  ear  1 

B.  Before  leaving  the  eye,  there  might  have 
been  remarked  one  design,  more  interesting,  perhaps, 
than  any  which  has  been  named. 

T.     And  what  may  that  be  ? 

B,  The  pleasures  and  use  of  sight  seem  to  be  the 
most  delightful  proofs  of  a  designing  Providence,  in- 
dependent of  any  particular  construction  of  the  organ 
itself  Without  this  sense,  a  large  part  of  our  capaci- 
ties would  be  lost  to  us.     Our  sensibility  to  the  plea- 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  65 

sures  of  vision,  one  of  the  most  constant  and  exqui 
site  we  possess,  would  have  been  given  us  in  vain. 
Not  only  so,  our  intellectual  capacities  would  have 
been  in  a  great  measure  useless  ;  for  how  little  could 
we  know  without  the  eye!  In  this  view,  the  mere 
existence  of  this  little  telescope,  without  any  refer- 
ence to  its  structure,  does  of  itself  conduct  our  minds 
to  an  intelligent  and  beneficent  Author.  It  forms  the 
same  evidence  of  design,  as  the  artist  exhibits,  who, 
when  he  has  made  a  machine,  provides  the  spring, 
the  pendulum,  or  the  weight,  which  is  necessary  to 
put  it  in  motion. 

T.  Very  true  ;  there  can  be  no  more  decisive  evi- 
dence of  intention  and  wisdom,  as  to  this  wonderful 
organ,  than  that  it  is  not  only  a  most  exquisite  piece  of 
workmanship  in  itself  considered,  but  that  when  the 
instrument  is  made,  it  is  perfectly  adapted  to  our 
wants,  and  is  necessary  for  the  exercise  and  improve- 
ment of  our  noblest  faculties. 

B.  The  ^ame  thought  is  beautifully  suggested  by 
Addison.  "  Our  sight  is  the  most  perfect  and  most 
delightful  af  all  our  senses  ;  it  fills  the  mind  with  the 
largest  variety  of  ideas,  converses  with  its  object  at 
the  greatest  distance,  and  continues  the  longest  in  ac- 
tion without  being  tired  or  satiated  with  its  proper  en- 
joyments." 

T.  Sturms,  after  giving  a  minute  description  of 
the  eye,  has  expressed  in  his  devout  and  animated 
manner,  a  reflection  upon  its  uses,  which  is  very 
pertinent  in  a  religious  view,  and  which  you  may 
quote. 

f2 


66  EYE. 

A.  "  I  praise  thee,  O  Lord  God,  for  having  form- 
ed my  eye  in  so  wonderful  a  manner  !  I  have  not 
hitherto  considered  the  gift  of  sight  as  I  should  have 
done,  that  is,  as  a  masterpiece  of  thy  hands,  and  as  a 
convincing  proofs  that  even  the  most  minute  parts  of 
my  body  are  the  works  of  God  and  not  of  blind 
chance.  Pardon  me,  O  wise  and  Almighty  Creator ! 
if,  while  I  have  used  my  eyes,  I  have  not  thought  of 
thee  with  the  warmest  gratitude.  May  I  employ 
them  in  examining  thy  word  and  works ;  and  wheth- 
er I  contemplate  the  heavens  or  the  earth ;  my- 
self or  the  sacred  volume  ;  may  I  be  induced  to  bless 
and  praise  thy  wonderful  goodness.  When  I  behold 
the  miseries  of  many  of  my  fellow-creatures,  let  not 
my  eye  refuse  them  tears,  nor  my  heart  be  shut  up 
to  compassion  ;  thus  may  I  fulfil  the  views  of  thy 
goodness,  and  through  Jesus  Christ  be  worthy  of  thy 
approbation." 

T.  A  similar  reflection  might  with  but  too  much 
propriety,  be  extended  to  all  the  powers  with  which 
our  Creator  has  endowed  us ; — that  we  do  not  devote 
them,  as  we  should  do,  to  his  service.  I  trust,  that, 
in  contemplating  new  proofs  of  his  power  and  wisdom, 
we  may  be  excited  to  a  stronger  disposition  to  honor 
him  with  "  our  bodies  and  spirits  which  are  his." — 
You  may  proceed  to  the  next  description. 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  67 


THE    EAR. 

A.  Although  the  construction  of  the  ear,  anato- 
mists observe,  is  not  so  well  understood  as  that  of  the 
eye,  it  exhibits  in  its  general  form,  both  internal  and 
external,  a  mechanism  which  is  admirably  contrived 
for  the  reception  of  sound.  It  is  fitted  with  a  fleshy 
rim  on  the  outside,  which  is  called  the  concha,  or 
trumpet, — because  it  spreads  like  the  mouth  of  a 
trumpet,  around  the  hole  of  the  ear  where  the  sound 
enters  the  head ;  and  the  use  of  the  trumpet  is,  to 
collect  the  sound  into  this  passage.  Ear  trumpets 
are  constructed  upon  this  principle,  for  the  benefit  of 
persons  who  are  hard  of  hearing  ; — only  the  spreading 
part  is  much  larger  than  it  is  in  the  ear.  The  artifi- 
cial invention-sho\\B  the  wisdom  of  the  natural  msivu- 
ment,  and  how  evidently  it  was  designed  with  reference 
to  the  uses  it  answers  in  the  animal  structure.  The  ris- 
ings and  furrrows  which  give  the  rim  of  the  ear  such  an 
irregular  appearance  are  said  to  perfect  the  trumpet, 
by  directing  the  sound  more  completely  into  the  hole. 
In  those  persons  who  have  not  flattened  their  ears 
down  upon  their  heads  by  tight  bandages,  but  suffer- 
ed the  rim  to  take  its  natural  position,  it  slightly  in- 
clines forward,  like  holding  our  hand  back  of  the  ear, 
when  we  wish  to  hear  more  distinctly.  This  has 
been  mentioned  as  remarkably  the  case  in  savages, 
whose  hearing  is  uncommonly  delicate.  Many  ani- 
mals, especially  the  little,  timid,  and  helpless  rabbit, 
have  the  trumpet  much  larger  and  more  perfect  than 


68  EAR. 

in  the  human  species  ;  and  are  also  capable  of  turning 
it  to  any  quarter  from  which  they  may  be  anxious  to 
collect  the  slightest  sound.  '^  This  motion  of  the 
ear,"  says  Richerand,  "  is  lost,  or  more  properly 
speaking,  not  employed  in  the  human  ear,  as  long  as 
the  organ  continues  in  a  perfect  state ;  but  when  its 
more  internal  mechanism  is  injured,  and  ceases  to  act 
upon  the  sound  as  usual,  the  external  ear  resumes  the 
office  to  which  it  was  originally  adapted,  and  by  a  de- 
gree of  motion  and  erection  assists  the  hearing."  A 
little  distance  within  the  hole  of  the  ear,  we  come  first 
to  a  membrane  stretching  entirely  across  from  side  to 
side,  forming  a  complete  partition.  It  may  be  com- 
pared to  the  pelt  or  head  of  a  drum ;  and  is  common- 
ly called  the  drum  of  the  ear ;  anatomists  term  it  the 
membrane  of  the  tympanum,  which  means,  skin  of  a 
drum.  Behind  this  partition,  we  come  to  an  open 
space  usually  termed  the  barrel  of  the  ear, — the  ana- 
tomical expression  is  tympanum,  from  a  Latin  word 
signifying  a  drum.  What  is  most  curious  to  observe, 
is  the  little  clock  work  within  this  barrel.  It  is  a  con- 
trivance of  four  extremely  minute  bones,  one  of 
which  is  fastened  by  the  end  into  the  main  drum 
head,  that  is,  the  membrane  of  the  tympanum,  and 
the  others,  connecting  along  from  the  opposite  end  of 
this  bone,  stretch  up  into  the  barrel  of  the  ear,  till  the 
last  stops  upon  another  drum  head,  drawn  over  the 
mouth  of  another  barrel,  which  is  deeply  situated  in 
the  solid  bone  of  the  skull,  and  which  contains  a  wat- 
ery  matter,  and  also  the  nerve  of  the  ear,  floating  in 
this  liquid.     The  second  barrel,  so  to  terra  it,  is  called 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  69 

the  labyrinth,  from  its  being  so  winding  and  full  of 
passages.  There  are  some  other  little  internal  cavi- 
ties and  passages ;  one  especially  leading  into  the 
main  barrel  with  a  membrane  over  it,  called  the  fo- 
ramen rotundum,  or  round  opening ;  another,  called 
the  Eustachian  tube.  This  is  about  the  whole  of  the 
machinery. 

B.  There  seems  to  be  an  abundance  of  it,  but 
rather  complicated  and  obscure. 

A.  The  waves  of  the  air,  and  what  is  called 
sound,  is  attributed  to  a  certain  peculiar  motion  in 
the  air,  resembling  waves,  produced  by  the  sounding 
body,  are  supposed  to  enter  the  ear  and  strike  upon 
the  principal  drum  head,  or  membrane  of  the  tympa- 
num, like  a  drum-stick, — and  to  be  communicated,  by 
means  of  the  little  bones  and  the  air  on  the  inside  to 
the  other  drum  heads  ;  these,  in  their  turn,  are  pre- 
sumed to  operate  upon  the  fluid  contained  in  the  bar- 
rels they  cover,  so  as  to  affect  the  delicate  filaments 
of  the  nerves  which  float  about  in  this  fluid — and 
thereby  produce  the  sensation  of  hearing.  It  is 
one  continued  transmission  through  a  complicated 
chain  of  conductors  most  mechanically  fitted  up  for 
the  purpose.  The  sound  is  also  supposed  to  be  car- 
ried to  the  nerve,  in  some  degree,  through  the  solid 
walls  of  the  ear ;  just,  as  in  a  stick  of  timber,  we 
can  hear  the  slightest  tap  upon  one  end,  by  holding 
our  ear  to  the  other. 

B.  The  little  bones  seem  to  be  the  most  curious 
part  of  the  contrivance. 


70  EAE. 

A.  To  look  upon,  anatomists  say,  they  are  more 
like  what  we  are  accustomed  to  call  machinery,  than 
almost  any  thing  beside  in  animal  bodies.  It  is,  as  if, 
upon  cutting  open  a  drum,  we  should  find  a  chain  of 
little  rods  hinging  one  upon  another  across  the  whole 
length  of  the  barrel  from  head  to  head.  It  has  been 
suggested,  that  they  probably  tighten  or  loosen  the 
drum  heads,  with  which  these  bones  communicate ; 
just  as  the  musician  loosens  or  strains  up  the  head  of 
his  drum  by  means  of  the  cords  and  leathers,  which 
we  see  on  the  outside.  By  stretching  or  loosening 
the  head,  he  strengthens  or  weakens  his  sounds  ;  and 
the  little  bones  are  supposed  by  many  anatomists,  to 
produce  the  same  effect. 

B.  They  make  a  tuning  apparatus  then,  it  seems, 
for  our  ears. 

T.  Their  chief  use  is  generally  conceived  to  be, 
to  conduct  the  sound  from  one  drum  head  to  the 
other.  Do  you  know  that  every  drum  has  a  hole  in 
the  barrel  ?  and  are  you  acquainted  with  the  reason  ? 

B.  It  would  seem  necessary  to  admit  the  air  into 
the  drum  ;  otherwise,  the  air  would  not  be  the  same 
on  both  sides  of  the  drum  head,  and  whichever  should 
press  the  most, — the  external,  or  the  internal  air, — it 
would  crowd  against  the  skin  and  be  injurious  to  the 
sound ;  at  least,  I  suppose  it  is  for  some  such  reason, 
that  the  hole  is  made. 

T.  Why  then  are  we  not  subject  to  some  incon- 
venience in  the  ear,  when  the  barrel  has  no  commu- 
nication with  the  air  by  means  of  the  external  ear.  on 
account  of  the  membrane  of  the  tympanum,  which 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  71 

Fig.  10. 


a,  the  external  ear,  called  the  concha,  or  trumpet.  10,  hol« 
of  the  ear,  slit  open  ;  termed  the  meatus  auditorius  externus, 
or  outward  passage  of  the  ear.  9,  membrane  of  the  tym- 
panum, stretching  across  the  ear;  or  the  main  drum  head  of 
the  ear.  It  makes  a  complete  partition  at  the  bottom  of  the 
hole  of  the  ear.  1,  2,  3,  4,  lines  pointing  to  the  four  little 
bones  seen  extending  across  the  tympanum  or  drum,  behind 
the  membrane  of  the  tympanum,  the  last  of  the  bones  being 
in  the  shape  of  a  stirrup  :  and  the  lower  end  of  the  first  bone 
being  inserted  into  the  membrane  of  the  tympanum.  6,  en- 
trance into  the  labyrinth,  or  back  drum  of  the  ear,  having 
a  membrane  over  it  on  which  the  stirrup  plays.  5,  three 
lines  pointing  to  the  semicircular  canals,  which  form  a  part 
of  the  labyrinth.  7,  the  cochlea  or  shell,  so  named  from  its 
resemblance  to  a  cockle,  and  forming  a  portion  of  the  laby- 
rinth. 8,  the  Eustachian  tube,  leading  from  the  tympanum 
or  drum  to  the  back  part  of  the  mouth.   - 

you  know  extends  across  and  shuts  up  the  passage,  a 
little  within  the  entrance  ? 

jL.     Though  there  is  no  communication  in  this  di- 
rection, there  is  another  passage,  called  the  Eusta- 


72  EAR. 

chian  tube,  which  is  a  slender  pipe  sufficient  to 
conduct  the  air,  and  which  leads  from  the  inside  of 
the  barrel  to  the  back  part  of  the  mouth. 

B.  How  wonderful  to  notice  the  many  particulars 
wherein  our  own  ingenuity  has  been  anticipated  in 
the  contrivances  of  nature  ! 

T.  Do  we  discover  any  provision  in  the  structure 
of  the  ear,  to  guard  against  the  dangers  to  which  it  is 
exposed  ? 

A.  The  hairs  which  are  placed  at  its  entrance, 
together  with  the  cerumen  or  wax  within  the  cavity, 
prevent  the  introduction  of  foreign  bodies,  such,  for 
example,  as  grains  of  sand,  dust,  insects,  &c. 

B.  Then  it  must  be  cruel  to  remove  this  hair,  as 
is  practised  upon  some  dumb  creatures. 

T.  I  presume  you  speak  of  the  horse.  The  loss 
of  this  protection  no  doubt  occasions  much  suffering 
to  the  poor  animal.  He  has  no  means,  like  our- 
selves, of  removing  obstructions  from  the  ear;  and 
therefore  should  not  be  deprived  of  any  natural 
security. 

B.  I  do  not  see  but  that  the  organ  of  hearing  is 
as  admirably  contrived  as  the  eye,  notwithstanding  it 
is  said  to  be  so  obscure.  Perhaps  we  may  still  say 
of  this  organ,  however,  as  of  the  eye,  that  the  most 
striking  demonstration  of  a  designing  intelligence  is 
its  relation  and  necessity  to  our  other  faculties.  ''  It 
enables  us  to  hold  communion  with  our  fellow  crea- 
tures, to  inspire  and  exalt  our  understandings,  by  the 
mutual  interchange  of  ideas,  and  thus  to  increase  the 
circle  not  only  of  our  physical  but  our  moral  relations. 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  73 

The  charms  of  eloquence,  the  pleasure  resulting  from 
the  concord  of  sweet  sounds,  are  other  sources  of 
intellectual  enjoyment,  which  contribute  to  place  this 
sense  among  the  most  delightful  as  well  as  the  most 
important  we  possess.  Whoever  has  witnessed  and 
attentively  observed  the  distressing  effects  arising 
from  a  loss  or  diminution  of  its  sensibility  will  readily 
acknowledge  that  such  deprivation  throws  us  at  a 
distance  from  our  fellow-creatures  and  in  the  present 
state  of  society  renders  us  more  solitary  beings,  than 
the  loss  of  sight  itself."  One  would  therefore  say, 
the  first  manifestation  of  Providence  in  this  admirable 
organ  relates  to  its  importance. 

T.  No  doubt,  an  All-wise  Creator  principally  ap- 
pears in  such  views  of  the  subject  as  these.  We 
are  to  be  most  grateful  for  the  uses  and  enjoyments 
for  which  every  part  is  fitted,  rather  ^han  for  the  skill 
displayed  in  the  construction  of  the  part  itself. 
These  considerations  should  again  induce  us  to  adore 
the  ineffable  wisdom  and  Vonderful  Jgoodness  which 
our  maker  displays  in  every  part  of  our  frame. 
They  should  make  us  more  sensible  of  the  value  of 
the  organ  by  which  we  are  enabled  to  enjoy  the 
benefits  of  speech,  and  to  receive  the  various  delight- 
ful impressions  which  are  imparted  by  sound.  While 
we  reflect  how  much  our  happiness  would  be  dimin- 
ished, if  we  could  not  communicate  our  thoughts  by 
conversation ;  how  lamentable  we  should  feel  it,  if 
we  were  to  be  denied  this  medium  of  intercourse 
with  our  friends ;  it  should  teach  us  to  value  our  own 

G 


74  SPINE. 

blessings,  and  to  praise  God  who  among  his  innu- 
merable benefits  has  given  us  the  power  of  hearing. 
There  is  now  another  field  we  are  to  survey,  which 
will  bring  into  view  new  occasions  for  admiration. 
The  head  contains  the  organs  by  which  the  ^  body  is 
directed.  We  are  to  see  the  machinery  by  which 
the  motions  are  performed ;  that  is,  the  bones  and 
muscles  generally,  which  are  the  active  parts  of  the 
body.  You  may  describe  the  principal  and  most 
important  bone, — the  one  immediately  connected 
with  the  head. 


THE     SPINE. 


A.  The  head  rests  upon  a  strong,  upright,  bony 
column,  which  forms  the  centre  of  the  back,  and  is 
•ailed  the  spine,  or  back-bone. 

B.  1  never  could  conceive  why  this  should  be 
called  a  bone.  We  certainly  bend  it  very  easily, 
and  therefore  it  cannot  be  one  continued,  solid  body, 
like  a  bone. 

T.  It  is  a  chain  of  joints  of  very  admirable  con- 
struction, and  this  you  will  see. 

A.  Anatomists  describe  it  as  a  wonderful  speci- 
men of  mechanism.  It  has  to  answer  several  impor- 
tant purposes  most  difficult  to  be  united.  A  portion 
of  the  most  delicate  substance  of  the  brain,  called  th« 
spinal  marrow^  is  continued  down  through  the  hoi- 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  /  75 

low  of  this  bone,  resembling  the  pith  in  the  stalk  of 
a  plant.  This  substance  is  so  exceedingly  tender, 
and  vital,  that  the  slightest  wound,  or  even  pressure, 
would  be  productive  of  serious  and  probably  fatal 
consequences.  It  might  seem,  therefore,  that  in  or- 
der to  secure  it  the  more  completely  from  any  injury, 
the  case  which  contains  it  ought  to  be  a  firm  and 
unbending  tube.  Yet  the  spine  must  bend  to  admit 
of  the  motions  of  the  body.  Any  considerable  bend- 
ing in  one  particular  spot,  however,  would  press  upon 
the  marrow  within,  and  be  highly  dangerous. 

The  danger  is  happily  avoided  by  the  bone  being 
composed  of  a  great  number  of  little  rings  piled  one 
upon  another,  as  many  as  twenty-four,  which  are 
called  the  vertebrce,  from  a  Latin  word,  which  signi- 
fies to  turn.  They  admit  of  a  great  flexure  through 
the  whole,  without  requiring  each  to  bend  but  a  very 
little.  Thus,  stooping  is  not  a  sudden,  hinge-like 
motion  in  a  single  spot,  like  shutting  a  penknife  ;  but 
is  the  united  bending  or  curvature  of  several  bones, 
for  a  considerable  extent  upon  the  back,  like  bending 
a  piece  of  whale-bone.  If  the  bend  were  entirely 
at  one  place,  a  wrinkle  or  crease  would  be  made  in 
the  spinal  marrow,  such  as  we  may  see  on  the  inside 
of  the  joint  of  the  finger,  when  we  bend  the  finger 
inward.  No  other  bone  in  the  body  is  so  constructed. 
No  other  requires  it. 

B.  By  no  other  requiring  it,  is  meant,  no  doubt, 
that  no  other  bone  which  has  to  bend,  contains  the 
same  delicate  contents.  This  is  truly  a  wonderful 
expression  of  design.     The  only  bone  in  the  body 


76  SPINE, 

which  bends  with  an  elastic  curve  instead  of  a  hinge, 
is  the  only  one  where  a  hinge  would  be  dangerous. 
Every  one  knows  that  his  back  is  composed  of  little 
bones ;  but  few,  probably,  are  aware  how  much  wis- 
dom it  exhibits,  and  that  their  lives  would  have  been 
in  danger  every  moment,  upon  any  other  construc- 
tion. Still,  it  would  seem  that  a  bone  composed  of 
so  many  little  rings,  must  be  very  liable  to  be  slipped 
apart,  especially,  when  we  consider  what  violent  mo- 
tions we  sometimes  have  occasion  to  make  with  it. 

T.  Do  we  discover  any  evidence  of  intentional 
precaution  against  this  accident  ? 

A.  We  behold  a  wonderful  structure,  having  an 
immediate  respect  to  this  very  danger.  The  bone  is 
as  skillfully  secured,  as  the  substance  entrusted  to  it 
is  vital  and  teruier.  It  is  as  safe,  as  we  might  sup- 
pose it  dangerous.  Notwithstanding  all  the  sudden 
and  violent  motions  to  which  this  part  is  subject, 
there  is  no  injury  to  the  body  perhaps  which  is  more 
infrequent  than  disuniting  or  displacing  any  of  the 
bones  of  the  spine.  Although  the  bones  are  in  such 
constant  motion  upon  one  another,  the  hollows  of  the 
rings  perfectly  agree ;  so  that  the  hole  in  one  bone 
corresponds  exactly  with  the  holes  in  the  two  bones 
contiguous  to  it — else  it  would  produce  a  break  in 
the  spinal  marrow.  They  always  form  one  close,  un- 
interrupted channel.  Bend  the  spine  as  we  please, 
practise  all  the  contortions  upon  it  we  can,  not  one  of 
the  little  bones  can  be  made  to  project  upon  the  inte- 
rior cavity,  so  as  to  injure  the  smoothness  of  the  bore. 
Let  an  artist  be  requested  to  execute  a  similar  piece 
of  work.      Bespeak  a   hollow   cane   of  twenty-four 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  77 

joints,  to  be  used  for  the  ordinary  purposes  of  such 
an  instrument,  and  yet  to  inclose  a  most  tender  sub- 
stance, exceedingly  precious,  to  which  it  would  be 
fatal  if  a  wrinkle  should  be  produced  in  it  at  any  one 
of  the  flexures.  No  mechanic  could  probably  be  in- 
duced to  undertake  so  difficult  a  task. 

T,     And  how  is  it  done  in  the  spine  ? 

A.  The  first  contrivance  is  a  firm  bandage  from 
ring  to  ring.  Besides  this,  there  is  a  further  secu- 
rity ;  and  a  more  studied  security, — one  more  care- 
fully contrived,  or  more  evidently  evincing  care,  it 
is  impossible  to  imagine.  The  bones  are  not  smooth 
and  regular:  on  each  of  them  there  are  what  anato- 
mists term  processes — projections  or  spurs,  which 
give  them,  at  first  view,  quite  a  deformed  appear- 
ance, and  such  as  we  see  in  no  other  bone  in  the 
body.  Every  one  of  these  protuberances,  or  pro- 
cesses upon  the  bone,  is  found,  upon  examination, 
to  be  a  check  to  some  improper  motion.  What- 
ever slip  attempts  to  take  place,  it  is  supported  by 
the  form  of  the  bone.  It  is  past  the  ingenuity  of  man 
to  dislocate  the  spine :  that  is  to  say,  to  find  a  mode 
hy  which  he  can  elude  the  wisdom  of  the  construc- 
tion;  in  which,  by  any  pressure  short  of  breaking  the 
parts,  he  can  thrust  one  of  the  bones  from  between 
its  neighbors.  "  Let  him  take,  for  example,  into  his 
hands,  a  piece  of  the  clean  picked  bone  of  a  hare's 
back ;  consisting,  we  will  suppose,  of  three  vertebrae. 
He  will  find  the  middle  bone  of  the  three  so  implica- 
ted, by  means  of  its  projections,  or  processes,  with 
the  bone  on  each  side  of  it,  that  no  pressure  which 
g2 


78 


SPINE. 


he  can  use,  will  force  it  out  of  its  place  between 
them.  It  will  give  way  neither  forward,  nor  back- 
ward, nor  on  either  side." 

T.  And  what  is  most  impressive,  here,  we  have  a 
structure  which  cannot  be  interpreted  as  a  natural 
effect.  The  processes  of  the .  spine  are  not  naturally 
produced  by  any  motions — ^but  they  are  checks  to 
hinder  motion.  When  we  endeavor  to  bend  back- 
ward too  far — the  tendency  of  this  endeavor  would 
be  to  smooth  away  the  joint,  and  suffer  the  motion  to 
be  made :  it  would  be  any  thing  but  that  of  forcing 
out  little  spurs  Xo  prevent  it. 

This  admirable  structure,  therefore,  has  but  one 
conceivable  explanation, — that  of  an  original  design. 
We  observe  securities  introduced,  where  the  natural 
result  would  have  been  the  very  opposite.  We  see 
the  reverse  of  a  natural  cause.  We  see  design,  and 
that  is  all  we  perceive.  Truly  may  we  say,  how  evi- 
dent the  indications  of  his  agency,  whose  fingers  have 
fashioned  us,  and  in  whom  we  live,  and  move,  and 
have  our  being. 

But  you  will  not  overlook  another  curiosity  in  this 
wonderful  part — the  provision  for  turning  the  head. 

A.  The  plan  of  the  spine,  upon  which  the  head 
is  supported,  forbids  the  turning  of  one  bone  upon 
another.  Its  joints  are  hinges,  confining  to  one  mo- 
tion, that  of  stooping  and  bending  merely.  We  can- 
not turn  our  breasts  opposite  to  our  feet.  We  see 
the  wisdom  of  this,  if  only  on  one  account, — ^the 
safety  of  the  spinal  marrow,  which  ought  evidently 
to  be  spared  every  unnecessary  motion.  This  is  the 
principle  of  the  spine  through  an  extended  series  of 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  7^ 

more  than  twenty  bones.  But  one  exception  was 
necessary  to  enable  the  head  to  turn,  by  a  motion  of 
its  own,  without  always  being  at  the  trouble  of  turn- 
ing the  whole  body.  To  admit  of  this,  one  solitary 
deviation  is  introduced.  One  bone  of  the  neck,  which 
is  a  part  of  the  spine,  is  permitted  to  turn  round, — 
and  only  one.  The  construction  is  this.  The  head, 
together  with  the  first  bone  of  the  neck,  forms  a  per- 
fect swivel,  like  the  head  of  a  cane,  made  to  twirl 
round  upon  the  staff.  There  is  a  notch  in  the  first 
bone  which  receives  a  pin  that  runs  up  into  it  from 
the  second,  making  what  mechanics  would  call  ^  pin, 
or  pivot  joint.  Upon  this  joint  the  head  has  a  firm 
and  accurate  motion  within  a  certain  extent  on  each 
side,  as  far  as  is  necessary. 

B.  Every  part  seems  to  be  the  most  wonderful, 
till  we  hear  another  described.  Still,  one  might  al- 
most tremble  to  think  of  turning  the  neck,  after  what 
anatomists  say  of  the  spinal  marrow. 

T.  It  is  this  which  renders  the  mechanism  truly 
remarkable.  There  was  plainly  a  choice  of  joints  to 
enable  the  head  to  turn.  Now,  anatomists  invite  our 
attention  to  the  singular  safety  of  the  joint  by  which 
tliis  motion  is  performed. 

A.  There  are  several  joints  which  would  have 
permitted  it.  The  bone  which  revolves  might  have 
been  fitted  with  a  cavity  to  the  head  of  the  bone  im- 
mediately beneath.  There  are  a  number  of  these 
joints  in  the  body.  They  are  called  ball  and  socket 
joints,  in  which  the  head  of  one  bone  is  received  into 
a  cup  or  socket  in  the  other.     There  is  such  a  joint 


80  SPINE. 

in  the  neighborhood  of  the  neck,  at  the  shoulder 
blade ;  and  no  other  kind  is  ever  employed  in  the 
body,  for  a  revolving  joint,  except  in  the  single  in- 
stance of  the  neck.  They  are  all  liable,  however,  to 
flip  in  some  degree,  in  the  socket ;  which,  while  of  no 
importance  in  any  other  situation,  would  have  been 
dangerous  to  the  spinal  marrow.  A  smart  blow  might 
easily  dislocate  such  a  joint.  But  nothing  can  slip  a 
pin  joint,  short  of  breaking  the  pin. 

B.  I  do  not  see  how  any  atheist  could  ever  have 
been  acquainted  with  his  own  structure. 

T.  Do  you  think  of  any  striking  resemblance  to 
the  works  of  art,  in  the  mechanism  of  the  neck  ? 

A.  When  we  bend  the  head  downward,  we  make 
use  of  the  hinge  joint,  which  is  situated  between  the 
head  and  the  first  vertebra  of  the  neck.  In  moving  the 
head  horizontally,  that  is,  in  turning  it  round  on  either 
side,  we  make  use  of  the  pin  joint,  which  lies  immedi- 
ately under  the  former,  and  plays  between  the  first 
bone  of  the  neck  and  the  second.  The  same  two 
kinds  of  joints,  similarly  situated,  and  exactly  resem- 
bling those  of  the  human  head,  are  employed  in  the 
frame  or  mounting  of  a  telescope.  It  is  occasionally 
requisite  to  move  the  telescope  up  and  down,  as  when 
we  want  to  point  it  to  a  star  which  lies  higher  or  lower 
than  another.  It  is  also  required,  that  it  should  be 
able  to  take  a  circular  motion,  as  when  we  want  to  re- 
move it  from  one  star  and  point  it  to  another  star,  by 
the  side  of  it.  For  the  first  motion,  there  is  a  hinge 
upon  which  the  telescope  plays  up  and  down ;  for  the 
next,  there  is  an  axis  or  pivot  on  which  the  hinge  and 
the  telescope  upon  it  turn  round  together.     This  is 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  81 

precisely  the  mechanism  which  is  used  in  the  motions 
of  the  head ! 

T.  You  can  turn  the  telescope,  however,  entirely 
round ;  but  you  are  aware,  it  is  not  the  same  with  the 
head.  The  head  has  only  a  certain  degree  of  motion 
from  side  to  side  ;  and  this  is  confined  to  a  very  small 
compass,  though  sufficient  for  the  purpose  ; — suffi- 
cient, that  is,  with  the  motion  of  the  eyes,  which 
nearly  completes  the  circle.  But  f  )r  this  limitation 
of  this  motion,  I  need  not  tell  you  the  spinal  marrow 
would  have  been  in  danger  of  being  twisted  or  com- 
pressed. A  most  artificial  contrivance  is  introduced, 
which  prevents  this  danger — can  you  describe  it? 

A.  There  are  two  ligaments,  small,  but  exceed- 
ingly strong,  which  are  attached  to  the  joint  in  such  a 
manner,  as  to  allow  it  sufficient  play,  but  not  to  admit 
of  any  motion  beyond  a  certain  extent.  They  are 
called  the  moderator  ligaments,  from  a  Latin  word 
signifying  to  moderate  or  check. 

S.  Then,  if  I  understand  it,  when  we  attempt  to 
turn  the  head  upon  either  side  farther  than  would  be 
safe,  one  of  these  cords  immediately  arrests  the  mo- 
tion, like  a  check  rope,  such  as  we  sometimes  see  em- 
ployed on  gates,  doors,  he,  and  acting  exactly  upon 
the  same  principle. 

T.  But  there  is  another  circumstance  which  it  be- 
longs to  our  present  purpose  to  understand.  You 
have  seen  that  the  structure  of  the  skull  is  admirably 
adapted  to  preserve  the  brain  from  being  jarred.  Is 
there  any  harmony  of  provision  for  the  same  purpose, 
in  the  structure  of  the  spine,  that  is,  of  the  support  on 
which  the  brain  immediately  rests  ? 


82 


SPINE. 


A.  Between  all  the  twenty-four  bones  of  tjie  spine 
there  are  springs  introduced,  of  a  substance  resem- 
bling gum  elastic  or  Indian  rubber.  They  are  carti- 
lages or  gristles ;  and  may  be  seen  to  perfection  in  a 
loin  of  veal.  They  operate  between  the  vertebrae 
as  so  many  spring  cushions,  so  that,  when  we  jump 
or  light  heavily  upon  the  ground,  the  violence  of  the 
blow  is  in  some  measure  broken  by  the  spring,  and 
the  jar  is  diminished  upon  the  brain.  "  We  can  read- 
ily understand,"  says  Dr.  Bell,  "how  great  the  influ- 
ence of  these  twenty-four  joinings  must  be  in  giving 
elasticity  to  the  whole  column ;  and  how  much  this 
tends  to  the  protection  of  the  brain.  Were  it  not 
for  this  interposition  of  elastic  material,  every  motion 
of  the  body  would  produce  a  jar  to  the  delicate  tex- 
ture of  the  brain,  and  we  should  suffer  almost  as 
much  in  alighting  on  our  feet,  as  in  falling  on  our 
head.'' 

But  there  is  another  very  curious  provision  for  the 
protection  of  the  brain;  the  curved  form  of  the  spine, 
which  resembles  an  italic/.  Elastic  as  this  bone  is, 
yet  if  it  were  perfectly  straight,  a  jar  would  have  ex- 
tended through  it  to  the  head  with  much  more  power. 
Thus,  if  we  should  place  a  ball  upon  the  end  of  a 
long,  straight  spring  of  steel  or  whale-bone,  and  strike 
the  other  end  upon  the  ground,  the  ball  would  proba- 
bly be  shaken  off  by  the  concussion  of  the  blow.  But 
if  we  first  bend  the  spring  in  the  shape  of  the  letter/, 
we  should  see  the  ball  would  not  be  jarred,  but  would 
have  an  easy  motion,  like  a  bird  rising  and  falling  up- 
on a  bending  branch.     Thus  admirably  calculated  is 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY. 


83 


the  spine  to  carry  the  head  without  a  jar  or  injury  of 

any  kind. 

Fig.     11. 


The  human  spine,  so  named  from  a  Latin  word  signifying  thorn, 
on  account  of  the  sharp  processes,  5,  s,  s,  which  project  from 
the  bones,  and  form  the  outer  ridge  of  the  back,  a,  a,  a 
the  cartilages,  or  plates  oS>  gristle,  inserted  between  all  the 
vertebrae.  It  will  be  seen  that  in  bending  backward,  the  pro- 
cesses will  touch  and  prevent  the  motion  ;  also,  that  the 
strongest  processes  are  in  the  lowest  division  of  the  spine, 
t(there  the  loins  are  situated,  and  where  the  motions  of  the 
back  are  greatest.  In  the  middle  portion,  between  the  verte- 
brae B,  B,  it  will  be  observed  that  the  processes  are  almost 
in  contact  with  one  another ;  so  that  in  this  part  the  ^pine 
hardly  admits  of  any  flexure.  The  ribs  enclosing  the  hearty 
lungs,  &c.,  are  attached  to  this  portion  of  the  spine,  and  con- 
sequently, any  considerable  bending  would  here  be  unsafe. 
In  the  upper  division,  the  processes  are  again  spread ;  tl»i« 
being  required  for  the  flexibility  of  the  neck. 


84  SPINE. 

T.     Is  this  wonderful  mechanism  the  same  in  all 

animals  ? 

A.  In  quadrupeds  the  number  of  the  vertebrae  is 
from  thirty  to  fifty.  In  the  common  serpent  it  is 
about  three  hundred.  In  the  shark  the  number  is 
somewhat  upwards  of  two  hundred.  In  the  eel  it  ex- 
ceeds an  hundred ;  while  in  common  fish  it  is  nearly 
the  same  as  in  quadrupeds.  Nor  is  this  all  with  re- 
spect to  the  serpent.  Not  only  is  the  flexibility  of 
the  back  increased  by  the  multiplicity  of  the  joints, 
but  the  manner  in  which  the  vertebrae  are  united  is 
truly  remarkable.  They  are  not  united  by  surfaces 
which  are  nearly  smooth,  as  in  the  spine  of  a  quadru- 
ped, nor  is  their  flexion  impeded  in  any  direction  by 
any  projections  of  the  bone.  They  play  freely  into 
one-another  like  a  cup  and  ball.  One  extremity  is 
rounded  and  received  into  a  corresponding  cavity  in 
the  contiguous  vertebra.  At  the  other  extremity  the 
arrangement  is  reversed.  Here  is  a  cavity  which  re- 
ceives the  point  of  the  next  bone.  So  that  the  whole 
spine  is  a  continued  chain  of  ball  and  socket  joints, 
affording  a  free  motion  on  every  side.  As  a  piece  of 
mechanism  for  pliancy  and  flexibility,  without  too 
much  sacrificing  a  secure  union  of  the  joints,  it  is  as 
palpable  a  contrivance  as  a  watch-chain,  which  it 
does  not  a  little  resemble. 

B.  This  explains  why  these  nimble  creatures  are 
able  to  twist  themselves  into  so  many  forms. 

T.  Yes  ;  but  the  more  interesting  explanation  is, 
it  afibrds  them  a  compensation  for  their  want  of  feet. 
Having  no  feet  they  need  this  structure  of  the  spine. 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY. 


85 


J5.  I  perceive  it.  As  they  have  to  make  all  their 
motions  with  their  bodies,  if  their  backs  were  not  as 
jointed  and  flexible  as  possible,  they  would  not  be' 
able  to  move  ;  at  least,  not  with  any  facility. 

T.  Do  you  see  any  natural  cause  why  the  want 
of  feet  should  have  given  them  an  unusual  number  of 
bones  in  their  backs  ? 

B.     1  see  no  cause  but  design. 

A.  The  vertebrae  of  the  fish  differs  from  that  of 
the  serpent  in  there  being  a  cavity  at  each  end.  Ev- 
ery joint  resembles  two  cups  united  together  by  their 
edges,  so  as  to  leave  a  hollow  inclosed  space.  This 
space  is  filled  with  a  gristly  substance  less  solid  than 
bone.  One  design  may  be  to  diminish  the  weight  of 
the  spine,  and  render  the  fish  thereby  more  buoyant 
in  the  water. 

The  neck  joints  of  the  bird  are  remarkable.  It  is  a 
structure  by  which  the  animal  is  assisted  in  smoothing 
and  adjusting  its  feathers,  turning  its  head  backward 
under  the  wing,  and  thrusting  out  or  drawing  in  its 
beak  with  rapidity  in  collecting  its  food.  In  the  first 
place,  the  vertebrae  are  not  united  by  flat  surfaces,  as 
in  quadrupeds.  They  are  rounded  at  the  point  of 
contact,  so  as  to  roll  upon  one  another  with  more  ease, 
and  be  capable  of  more  flexion.  Secondly,  the  upper 
joints  of  the  neck  can  only  bend  forward^  and  the  un- 
der ones  admit  only  of  a  bacJcward  motion.  The  con- 
sequence is,  there  are  two  curvatures  in  opposite  di- 
rections, like  the  letter  S,  so  that  by  spreading  or  con- 
tracting them  at  the  same  time  the  neck  is  lengthened 

H 


86 


SPINE. 


or  shortened  much  more  expeditiously.  The  elegant 
form  of  the  swan's  neck  is  owing  to  this  construction. 
But  there  is  more  to  be  noticed.  The  vertebrs  of 
the  back  are  as  remarkable  for  the  rigidity  of  the  joints, 
as  inose  of  the  neck  for  their  uncommon  flexibility. 
The  bird  wants  a  solid  support  in  the  back,  to  sustain 
the  motions  of  the  wings  in  flying.  Had  this  portion  of 
the  spine  been  as  flexible  as  in  other  animals,  the  body 
would  have  been  liable  to  be  bent  or  twisted  round. 
The  more  unwieldly  birds  which  do  not  fly,  are  said 
to  be  without  this  construction. 

B.  This  is  the  more  remarkable,  because  it  seems 
to  be  the  very  reverse  of  a  natural  effect.  The  natural 
tendency  of  the  exercise  of  the  wings,  I  should  sup- 
pose, would  be  to  bend  the  joints  of  the  back  and  not 
to  stiffen  them. 

A.  In  general  the  length  of  the  neck  is  such,  that, 
added  to  the  head,  the  length  of  both  is  equal  to  the 
height  of  the  animals'  shoulders  from  the  ground.  In 
some  fowls  it  greatly  exceeds  this  proportion.  This 
is  necessary  to  enable  them  to  seek  their  food  below 
the  surface  of  the  water  in  which  they  swim.  The 
same  proportion  is  equally  remarkable  in  quadrupeds ; 
otherwise  they  could  not  easily  reach  the  herbs  on 
which  they  feed,  or  the  water  they  drink.  Among  all 
those  in  which  this  rule  is  observed,  the  size  of  tjie 
head  is  less  in  proportion  as  the  length  of  the  neck  is 
greater.  But  for  this  circumstance,  the  animal  would 
he  put  to  great  exertion  in  raising  up  his  head.  This 
rule,  however,  is  not  observed  with  regard  to  animals 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  87 

that  have  means  for  raising  their  food  without  extend- 
ing their  necks, — such,  for  example,  as  man,  the  ele- 
phant, &c. 


THE     BONES. 

T.  We  might  now  pass  to  some  other  views  of 
this  masterpiece  of  divine  wisdom  and  powder,  besides 
those  which  invite  our  attention  in  the  solid  parts  of 
the  animal  structure.  But  I  will  detain  you  a  little 
longer.  If  the  bones  and  joints  have  been  called  the 
coarsest  parts  of  nature's  workmanship, — still  they  are 
more  easy  to  be  understood,  because  they  more  nearly 
resemble  the  kind  of  mechanism  to  which  we  are 
accustomed :  we  can  compare  them  with  works  of 
art ; — and  therefore,  they  are  the  properest  to  be  al- 
leged as  proofs  and  specimens  of  design.  There  is 
one  remarkable  variety  in  the  bones,  which  challenges 
our  admiration  as  an  evidence  of  original  purpose  and 
wisdom  :  a  portion  of  them  are  hollow ;  and  it  is  won- 
derful to  observe  the  skill  displayed  in  the  selection ; 
and  the  acquaintance  exhibited  with  mechanical  prin- 
ciples. 

A.  The  bones  of  the  limbs  belong  to  this  class. — 
We  may  notice  the  tubular  construction  in  the  wing  or 
leg  bones  of  a  bird.  Mathematicians  demonstrate,  that 
in  any  instrument  requiring  strength,   size,   and  th« 


^^  MECHANISM    OF    THE    BONES. 

greatest  possible  lightness  at  the  same  time,  as  in  the 
limb  bones,  for  example,  the  hollow  form  is  the  best. 
Every  boy  is  sensible  of  the  superior  strength  of  a  cane 
pole  beyond  that  of  any  other  rod  of  the  same  weight. 
The  reason  is,  it  is  hollow.  If  he  should  split  the  cane 
into  strips,  and  glue  the  strips  together  ever  so  strong- 
ly, but  without  leaving  any  hollow,  though  he  would 
have  the  same  wood,  he  would  find  the  rod  hardly  ca- 
pable of  supporting  its  own  weight.  A  tin  tube  has 
very  considerable  strength ;  but  flattened  together, 
that  is,  no  hollow  remaining,  it  bends  with  ease.  We 
see,  therefore,  it  was  not  accident,  but  the  skill  of  a 
wise  Mechanician  which  has  assigned  the  tubular  form 
to  the  bones  of  the  limbs,  in  which  strength  and  light- 
ness are  particularly  needed.  What  is  more  remark- 
able, this  form  is  the  most  conspicuous  in  the  bones 
of  the  bird.  These  animals  have  the  most  occasion, 
plainly,  for  light  bones.  Their  bones,  that  is,  the 
hollow  bones,  differ  in  three  properties.  First,  the 
hollows  are  much  larger  in  proportion  to  the  w^eight  of 
the  bone  than  in  those  of  men  or  of  four  footed  ani- 
mals. Secondly,  these  hollows  are  empty,  or  con- 
tain only  air.  They  have  a  direct  communication  also 
with  the  lungs ;  the  air  which  is  received  into  the 
lungs,  escaping  and  returning  alternately  by  a  hole  in 
some  of  the  bones;  whereas,  in  man,  &c.,  they  are 
filled  with  marrow.  Thirdly,  the  shell  is  of  a  firmer 
texture  than  is  the  substance  of  other  bones ;  and 
therefore,  less  bone  is  required  to  furnish  the  same  de- 
gree of  strength. 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  89 

Why  this  peculiar  advantage  bestowed  upon  the 
bird  ?  It  could  only  proceed  from  a  designing  intelli- 
gence. We  see  nothing  in  the  nature  or  habits  of  this 
animal  in  particular  to  funish  him  with  bones  more 
hollow  or  more  empty  than  those  of  other  species. 
And  again,  what  natural  tendency,  which  we  can  im^ 
agine,  has  a  bone  of  unusual  lightness  to  cover  itself 
with  feathers  ?  One  is  suited  to  the  other ;  but  what 
effect  had  one  to  produce  the  other?  Remarkably 
hollow  bones  might  naturally  enough  have  occasioned 
a  remarkably  nimble  animal ;  but  how  could  it  have 
given  him  wings  ?  We  see  a  connexion  of  design,  and 
that  is  all  we  perceive. 

T.  There  are  nerves  and  blood-vessels,  which  en- 
ter through  the  sides  of  the  bones.  Just  for  the  pur- 
pose of  shewing  the  wonderful  attention  which  is  paid 
to  the  most  minute  particulars  where  utility  is  con- 
cerned, can  you  mention  what  anatomists  observe  as 
to  the  direction  in  which  the  channels  are  bored  for 
this  purpose  ? 

T.  The  holes  are  generally  winding :  they  take  a 
zig-zag  course,  so  that  they  are  nowhere  in  a  single 
line  directly  across,  which  would  most  have  weakened 
the  bone. 

B.  We  often  find  trees  perforated  by  worms  in 
this  serpentine  manner ;  and  Providence  has,  perhaps, 
so  directed  the  instinct  of  these  little  creatures  for  the 
same  object. 

A.  In  all  the  two  hundred  and  sixty  bones  in  the 
human  body  there  is  not  one,  but  what  is  suited  to  its 
h2 


90  MECHANISM    OF    THE    BONES. 

place,  or  that  would  do,  in  any  other  place.  Change 
the  situation,  proportion,  dimensions,  shape,  of  any 
bone, — and  we  can  see  at  once,  we  violate  some  me- 
chanical principle.  Yet  the  bones  are  original,  fixed 
parts.  They  do  not  take  their  form  from  our  mo- 
tions. They  do  not  wear  into  the  right  configuration. 
The  limbs  of  the  infant  are  as  perfect  as  those  of  the 
adult.  They  exhibit  examples  of  almost  every  kind 
of  mechanical  power  of  which  their  nature'  admits,; 
and  whatever  be  the  instance,  anatomists  observe,  it  is 
invariably  the  simplest,  the  most  beautiful,  and  the 
least  subject  to  derangement,  which  would  have  an- 
swered the  purpose. 

The  manner  in  which  the  bones  are  articulated,  or 
jointed,  afibrds  evidences  of  contrivance  and  contriv- 
ing wisdom  still  more  striking  if  possible,  than  those 
we  discover  in  the  configuration  and  proportions  of  the 
bones  themselves.  There  is  nothing  perhaps  in  the 
whole  frame  a  mechanic  would  be  more  likely  to  no- 
tice. The  greatest  curiosity  and  wonder  to  him  would 
probably  be  the  appearance  of  selection,  that  is  to  say, 
the  employment  of  chosen  joints  in  the  different  limbs, 
and  the  admirable  adaptation  of  each  to  the  particular 
motion  required,  as  well  as  to  the  particular  dangers 
of  injury  in  the  situation  in  which  it  is  used.  Every 
child  knows  that  the  bones  are  jointed  ;  but  he  is  not 
probably  aware  that  no  two  joints  are  exactly  alike, 
except  in  corresponding  parts  of  the  frame.  We  have 
the  ball  and  socket  joint,  the  pin  or  pivot  joint,  the 
hinge  joint,  and  as  perfect  in  every  respect  as  could 
be  produced  from  a  cabinet  maker's  shop.     One  or 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  91 

Other  prevails  as  may  be  best  adapted  to  the  motion 
which  is  wanted.  Thus,  a  hinge  joint  admits  only  of 
a  backward  and  forward  motion.  We  have  this  joint 
in  our  fingers,  enabling  us  to  open  and  close  them — 
which  is  all  the  motion  that  would  be  of  any  use.  It 
would  have  been  of  no  conceivable  advantage  to  have 
turned  the  joints  of  the  fingers  completely  round,  so 
as  to  bring  the  nails  upon  the  inside.  At  the  should- 
er, on  the  contrary,  we  want  a  joint  which  will  per- 
mit us  to  stretch  and  expand  the  arm  in  every  direc- 
tion :  there  we  have  a  hall  and  socket  joint ;  where 
the  round  head  of  the  bone  is  received  into  a  cup, 
which  gives  it  a  free  play  on  every  side.  At  the 
neck,  a  joint  is  necessary  that  will  suffer  the  head 
to  revolve,  but  the  spinal  marrow  requires  that  the 
joint  should  be  subject  to  no  slip,  and  that  no  loose 
motion  should  be  allowed  it,  which,  in  the  common 
ball  and  socket  joint,  it  is  difficult  to  avoid.  Here 
we  have  a  pivot  joint, — a  joint  with  a  firm  pin  run- 
ning up  and  accurately  fitted  into  a  cavity  which  al- 
lows the  motion  demanded,  but  permits  no  irregular- 
ity. Sometimes  the  same  bone  is  constructed  at  the 
opposite  ends  for  different  species  of  joints  where  dif- 
ferent kinds  of  motions  happen  to  be  necessary.— 
Thus,  the  extremity  of  the  thigh  bone  is  made  for  a 
ball  and  socket  joint,  where  it  is  united  at  the  hip,  but 
for  a  hinge  joint,  where  it  is  united  at  the  knee.  The 
utihty  is  obvious.  A  hinge  joint  at  the  upper  end 
would  have  permitted  a  backward  and  forward  mo- 
tion, but  no  other;  and  not  a  step  could  have  been 
taken  beyond  a  certain  width,  except  by   spreading 


92  MECHANISM    OF    THE    BONES. 

the  limbs  at  the  knee  to  a  most  awkward  and  uncom- 
fortable angle.  Again,  had  the  ball  and  socket  been 
placed  at  the  knee,  it  would  have  been  less  firm  than 
the  hinge  joint  ; — "  and  there  would  have  been  no 
use  that  we  know  of,  in  being  able  to  turn  the  calves 
of  our  legs  before." 

The  bones  are  all  cased  over  at  the  joints  with  firm, 
leathern-like  caps,  resembling  the  rings  which  artists 
employ  to  prevent  the  joints  of  their  machinery  from 
wearing  away.  The  substance  is  gristle,  and  it  is 
found  in  no  other  part  of  the  bones,  but  at  the  joints. 
Besides  this,  there  is  around  every  joint  a  little  bag 
which  passes  from  bone  to  bone,  containing  a  liquid, 
anatomists  call  it  the  synovia,  which  keeps  the  surface 
smooth,  and  is  exactly  the  same,  in  effect,  with  the 
oil  which  mechanics  employ  for  a  similar  purpose. 
The  joints,  in  short,  are  both  leathered  and  oiled. 

This  fluid  is  vulgarly  called  joint-oil,  but  it  has  no 
property  of  oil.  It  is  more  like  mucilage,  smooth  and 
slippery  to  the  touch ;  and  therefore  better  adapted, 
than  any  oil  to  lubricate  the  interior  of  the  joints  and 
prevent  ill  effects  from  friction.  It  is  regularly  sup- 
plied by  means  of  a  membrane  in  the  joint  furnished 
with  little  glands,  which  pour  it  out  as  it  is  wanted. 
*'  A  late  improvement,'  observes  Dr.  Paley,  *  in  what 
are  called  friction  wheels,  which  consists  of  a  mechan- 
ism so  ordered,  as  to  be  regularly  dropping  oil  into  a 
box,  which  encloses  the  axis,  the  nave,  and  certain 
balls  upon  which  the  nave  revolves,  may  be  said,  in 
some  sort,  to  represent  the  contrivance  in  the  animal 
joint ;  with  this  superiority,  however,  on  the  part  of 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  93 

the  joints,  viz.  that  here,  the  oil  is  not  only  dropped 
but  made.^^ 

T.  This  is  not  the  only  superiority  of  the  natural 
contrivance.  The  more  the  joints  are  used,  the  more 
abundantly  is  the  oil  supplied.  It  would  be  thought  a 
wonderful -invention,  if  a  wheel  should  be  so  made  as 
■^o  supply  more  oil  to  the  axis,  in  case  the  traveller 
should  see  fit  to  accelerate  his  speed,  or  to  take  up  a 
companion.  But  this  is  done  in  our  joints  ;  that  is, 
ilie  lubricating  fluid  is  poured  out  in  increased  quan- 
tities when  the  joint  is  in  use,  and  in  proportion  to 
its  use. 

B.  What  an  exquisite  provision !  This  will  ac- 
count for  the  uneasy  sensation  we  experience  in  mov- 
ing our  limbs,  after  neglecting  exercise  for  a  consider- 
able time.     The  oil  is  deficient. 

T.  A  trifling  item  in  the  catalogue  of  evils  w® 
bring  upon  ourselves  by  indolent  habits.  Let  me  ask 
you  what  mode  of  fastening  a  joint  you  should  sup- 
pose would  be  the  most  safe  ? 

B.  I  know  of  none  so  firm  as  what  mechanics  al- 
ways employ, — a  bolt. 

T.  So,  it  is  probable,  a  mechanic  would  say ;  but 
an  anatomist  would  tell  him  that  this  would  not  have 
answered  in  the  animal  structure,  and  is  never  em- 
ployed, A  strong  band  of  gristle  about  the  heads  of 
the  bones  is  the  fastening  made  use  of;  and  it  forms 
almost  the  only  instance  in  which  nature  has  departed 
from  our  mechanical  expedients. 

B.  The  advantage,  I  now  perceive,  is  very  plain, 
though  it  did  not  occur  to  me.     Had  the  joints  beea 


94  MECHANISM    OF    THE    BONES. 

secured  by  a  solid  pivot,  or  any  thing^  absolutely  in- 
flexible, the  limbs  would  be  more  endangered.  In 
extreme  accidents  the  gristle  will  yield,  and  permit 
the  limb  to  slip,  without  breaking  the  bone.  All  the 
remedy  required  is  a  smart  extension  of  the  cords ; 
whereas,  if  a  bolt  would  have  been  more  secure,  the 
difficulty  is,  it  would  have  been  too  secure  ;  since  it  is 
often  the  case  that,  if  the  joint  did  not  give  way,  the 
bone  must. 

A.  "  In  considering  the  joints,'  observes  Dr  Pa- 
ley,  *  there  is  nothing  which  ought  to  move  our  grati- 
tude more  than  the  reflection,  how  well  they  t^jear.  A 
limb  shall  swing  upon  its  hinge,  or  play  in  its  socket, 
many  hundred  times  in  an  hour  for  sixty  years  to- 
gether, without  diminution  of  its  agility ;  which  is  a 
long  time  for  any  thing  to  last  ;  for  any  thing  so  much 
worked  and  exercised  as  the  joints  are." 

T.  Are  there  any  remarkable  varieties  in  the  joints 
of  different  animals  ? 

A.  There  are  fishes  which  have  joints  of  which  the 
skeleton  of  man  and  animals  generally  furnish  no  exam- 
ples. They  are  to  be  seen  in  the  fin.  The  general 
structure  of  the  fin  resembles  a  fan,  being  composed 
of  spines,  or  long  slender  bones,  with  a  membrane  be- 
tween them,  which  when  raised  from  the  body  and 
spread  out,  answers  the  purpose  of  a  paddle,  and 
sometimes  of  a  weapon  of  attack  or  defence.  When 
employed  for  the  latter  purpose  it  evidently  requires 
as  much  firmness  as  possible.  In  ihe  pectoral  fin  of 
some  fishes  there  is  a  curious  provision  by  which  this 
object  is  effected.     A  mechanic  might  be  challenged 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  95 

to  invent  a  more  simple  and  beautiful  contrivance. 
The  first  spine  of  the  fin,  the  first  stick  of  the  fan,  has 
a  moveable  bone  in  the  shape  of  a. ring  attached  to 
the  lower  extremity,  which  plays,  upon  another  bone 
that  is  immoveable.  The  ring  bone  has  a  hook,  and 
it  is  in  the  power  of  the  animal,  by  turning  the  bone 
round,  to  fasten  the  hook  into  a  particular  hole  in  the 
immoveable  bone.  In  this  manner  the  fin  becomes 
so  securely  fixed  that  it  cannot  be  moved  except  by  a 
motion  directly  contrary  to  that  which  hooked  it  to 
the  other.  Any  attempt  to  brush  down  the  fin  with- 
out regularly  unlocking  it  is  ineftec.tual.  It  is  thus 
the  siluri  and  the  gasterostei  give  firmness  to  their  fins 
when  they  wish  to  employ  them  as  weapons  of  de- 
fence or  assault. 

T.     You  may  describe  some  of  the  principal  bones, 
besides  those  which  have  been  mentioned. 
THE     ARM. 

A.     The  arm  is  a  remarkable  piece  of  mechanism. 

The  situation  of  the  arm  upon  the  body  is  best  ac- 
commodated to  the  uses  of  the  limb,  as  every  one 
will  realize  by  imagining  a  different  position. 

By  being  jointed  it  is  capable  of  a  much  greater 
variety  of  motions,  than  though  it  had  been  a  single 
bone.  Without  a  hinge  in  the  middle,  it  would  have 
been  unmanageable  ;  with  a  multitude  of  joints  it 
would  have  wanted  strength.  It  consists  of  three 
bones  ;  one  above  the  elbow,  called  the  humerus ;  the 
other  two  between  the  elbow  and  the  wrist.  Of  the 
last,  the  one  which  is  in  a  line  with  the  thumb  is 
termed  the  radius — the  other,  the  ulna. 


96  MECHANISM    OF    THE    BONES. 

T.  What  is  the  wisdom  of  this  mechanism  ?  Why 
one  bone  for  the  upper,  and  two  for  the  lower  arm  ? — 
Why  is  there  not  the  same  number  of  bones  in  both 
parts  of  the  arm  ? 

A.  it  would  be  difficult  to  imagine  a  more  striking 
instance  of  mechanical  ingenuity  than  we  have  in  the 
double  bone  of  the  lower  arm.  One  of  the  bones, 
(the  ulna),  makesa  hinge  at  the  elbow,  and  permits 
the  arm  to  bend.  The  other  has  no  concern  in  the 
hinge :  it  barely  touches  at  the  elbow,  and  may  be 
said  to  be  loose.  But  this  arrangement  is  exactly  the 
opposite  at  the  wrist.  Here  the  bone  which  is  hinged 
at  the  elbow  is  only  permitted  to  touch  ;  and  that,  on 
the  contrary,  which  touches  at  the  elbow  is  united  to 
the  hand  by  a  hinge.  When  we  want  to  bend  the 
arm,  we  use  one  hinge ;  and  when  to  perform  the 
same  motion  at  the  wrist,  we  employ  the  other.  Had 
these  two  motions  been  performed  upon  one  and  the 
same  bone,  with  a  hinge  at  each  extremity,  the  hand 
could  have  swung  backward  and  forward, — ^but  it 
could  not  have  revolved ;  we  could  not  have  turned 
the  palm  of  the  hand  upward  or  downward.  For 
there  can  be  no  turning  round,  it  is  evident,  upon  a 
hinge  joint.  If  the  hand  must  turn,  the  bone  must 
turn  also  to  which  it  is  hinged  on  ;  and  must  therefore 
be  loose  at  the  elbow,  aud  the  elbow  hinge  must  be 
assigned  to  another  bone.  Such  is  the  contrivance 
actually  adopted ! 

B.  Any  one  might  think  how  happy  it  is  that  we 
are  furnished  with  a  double  bone  in  a  part  we  use  so 
much,  so  as  to  keep  it  more  firm  and  steady  under  the 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  ,97 

great  pressures  for  which  we  have  occasion  at  the 
wrist  and  elbow;  but  few  are  probably  aware  how 
ingenious  it  is,  and  how  necessary  to  enable  us  to  per- 
form one  of  the  most  simple  motions  of  the  hand. 
Here  is  an  example  of  creative  skill  which  is  always 
before  us.  Truly  may  we  say,  that  to  be  convinced 
of  the  hand  of  God,  we  have  only  to  look  upon  our 
own. 

T.  But  you  have  not  finished  the  description  of 
this  remarkable  workmanship. 

A.  The  construction  adopted  gives  the  benefit  of 
a  long  shaft  to  the  hand  running  as  high  as  the  elbow. 
This  supports  the  joint  when  we  turn  the  hand  with 
a  strong  twist,  much  more  than  if  the  hand  had  been 
set  to  the  wrist  by  a  simple  socket.  If  we  grasp  the 
arm  a  little  above  the  wrist,  when  we  roll  the  hand 
we  shall  feel  the  shaft  bone  revolving.  A  mechanic 
would  understand  the  ingenuity  of  this  structure  ;-as 
an  improved  instrument,  for  screwing  and  wrenching, 
has  recently  been  invented  in  almost  exact  imitation 
of' the  human  wrist.  It  is  obvious  that  the  muscles 
which  roll  the  hand  are  applied  to  much  greater  ef- 
fect by  means  of  this  contrivance  ;  for  we  find  up- 
on examination,  a  part  is  attached  along  upon  the 
upper  extremity  of  the  shaft, — just  as  in  using  a  pair 
of  pincers,  we  always  apply  our  strength  at  the  ends 
of  the  handles. 

It  may  here  be  mentioned,  that  the  monkey  has 
one  more  bone  in  the  wrist  than  is  found  in  the  hu- 
man species. 

I 


98 


MECHANISM     OF    THE    BONES. 


THE    UPPER    ARM. 

The  upper  arm  displays  a  different  kind  of  mechan- 
ism.    It  makes  a  hinge  at  the  elbow,  permitting  the 

Fig.     12. 


Fis.  13. 


Figure  12. 
tf,  the  humerus,  or  bone  of  the  upper  arm,  exhibiting  the  ball  or 
rounded  head  at  the  top,  which  is  received  into  a  socket  at 
the  shoulder,  forming  an  universal  joint.  JR,  the  radium,  or 
bone  which  turns  with  the  hand,  and  is  hinged  at  the  wrist. 
M,  the  ulna,  which  is  hinged  at  the  elbow,  and  by  which  we 
perform  all  the  motions  of  bending  or  extending  the  arm. 

Figure  13. 
A  small  portion  of  the  humerus,  and  also  of  the  radius  and  ulna, 
exhibiting  the  structure  of  the  elbow  joint.  R,  being  the  ra- 
dius which  is  loose  from  the  joint,  for  the  purpose  of  enabling 
the  hand,  which  is  hinged  at  the  opposite  extremity,  to  re- 
volve. 

arm  to  bend  :  but  at  the  shoulder  we  have  what  is 
called  a  ball  and  socket  joint ;  that  is,  a  universal 
joint,  which   will   turn   in  every  direction.      If  we 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  99 

double  one  hand  into  the  shape  of  a  ball,  and  turn 
it  round  in  the  other,  this  would  resemble  the  joint  at 
the  upper  extremity  of  the  arm.  Now,  the  hinge 
joint,  we  can  see,  does  well  at  the  elbow  ;  but  at  the 
shoulder,  it  would  have  deprived  us  of  half  the  use 
of  our  arms.  It  must  have  kept  them  always  at  the 
same  distance  from  the  body  ;  they  would  have 
swung  forever  in  one  particular  line,  like  the  arms  of 
a  loom. 

The  provision  for  uniting  the  arm  to  the  body  is  in 
some  material  respects  a  very  remarkable  structure. 
It  can  only  be  appreciated,  as  it  deserves,  by  one 
who  will  be  at  the  pains  to  reflect  upon  all  the  pos- 
sible modes  in  which  the  object  could  be  effected — in 
which  the  arm  could  be  attached  by  a  firm  and  sub- 
stantial joint.  The  ribs  are  evidently  too  slender  and 
weak  to  sustain  a  great  pressure  at  a  single  point  no 
larger  than  the  head  of  the  arm  bone.  The  arm, 
therefore,  could  not  be  jointed  to  a  rih.  It  would 
have  been  forced  into  the  body  by  the  first  violent  ef- 
fort. The  spine  w^ould  have  been  still  more  endan- 
gered. But  no  other  bone  remains  in  that  neighbor- 
hood, belonging  to  the  united  frame  of  the  trunk ;  the 
collar  bone  and  breast  bone  excepted,  which  are  evi- 
dently out  of  the  question.  We  have  here  an  obvi- 
ous difficulty,  and  it  is  wonderful  to  see  how  it  has 
been  surmounted.  A  broad,  flat  bone,  called  the  sea- 
pula  or  shoulder-blade,  is  spread  outside  a  number  of 
ribs  together,  against  which  the  arm  rests,  and 
to  which  it  is  attached — and  whereby  the  pressure  is 
so  much  extended  as  to  occasion  no  danger  to  the 


100  MECHANISM    OF    THE    BONES. 

frail  materials  underneath.  A  mechanic  would  say, 
there  is  a  elect  put  in  between  the  shore  and  the  build- 
ing to  save  the  building  from  injury.  It  is  loosely 
bedded  in  the  flesh  ;  and  is  itself  capable  of  motion. 
This  perfects  the  provision.  As  the  shore  inclines 
to  either  side,  the  cleet  shifts  likewise,  so  as  to  keep 
the  bearing,  as  nearly  as  possible,  always  equally  true. 

Fig,  14. 


»,  the  scapula,  or  shoulder  blade. 

B.  What  a  perfect  piece  of  artificial  contrivance  ! 
Truly,  there  is  no  end  to  the  skill  exhibited  in  the 
formation  of  the  human  frame.  We  have  constant 
occasion  to  exclaim,  how  fearfully  and  w^onderfully 
are  we  made  ! 

T.  And  nothing  more  disposes  us  to  this  devout 
admiration  than  perceiving  some  new  occasion  for  it, 
which  is  one  of  the  great  advantages  of  the  subject  we 
are  now  pursuing. 

THE     RIBS. 

The  rib  bones  are  a  far  more  curious  and  surprising 
structure  than  most  persons  are  aware. 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  '  101 

A.  Besides  protecting  the  heart  and  the  lungs, 
and  this  use  alone,  in  respect  to  the  heai^t  especially, 
would  have  been  sufficient  evidence  of  design,  they 
are  made  to  render  another  service  which  a  hasty  ob- 
server would  hardly  have  suspected.  The  play  of 
the  lungs  is  referrible  to  the  arrangement,  of  these 
bones.  As  breathing  is  nothing  more  than  the  rising 
and  falling  of  the  lungs,  which  operate  like  a  pair  of 
bellows,  a  contrivance  was  wanted  to  perform  this 
mechanical  operation.  We  mark  in  the  provision 
adopted,  the  admirable  simplicity, — as  a  mechanic 
would  say,  the  happy  thought,  of  the  expedient. 
The  contrivance  is  this.  The  rib  bones  are  united 
to  the  spine  in  a  direction  sloping  downwards.  Being 
firmly  attached  at  the  ends  where  they  are  set  on,  the 
consequence  of  their  sloping  is,  that  when  they  come 
to  rise,  the  muscles  which  pull  them  up  necessarily 
draw  them  out,  upon  the  principle  of  an  umbrella. 
The  cavity  of  the  chest  is  consequently  enlarged, 
and  the  lungs  are  permitted  to  fill,  as  the  air  rushes 
into  the  bellows  when  they  are  extended.  Again,  by 
sinking  down  into  their  former  position,  the  cavity  is 
diminished  and  the  breath  is  forced  out. 

B.  One  cannot  but  reflect  with  admiration  upon 
how  slight  a  piece  of  mechanism'  our  lives  are  depend- 
ing ;  that  is  to  say,  upon  the  right  choice  of  so  sim- 
ple a  circumstance,,  as  whether  the  ribs  in  their  nat- 
ural position,  should  pass  directly  around  the  chest, 
as  most  persons,  it  is  likely,  have  never  observed  but 
that  they  do  ;  or  should  have  a  slight  degree  of 
inclination  downwards. 

I  2 


102  MECHANISM     OF    THE    BONES. 

.Fig,    15. 


The  spine,  ribs  and  hreast  hone,  or  sternum,  which  constitute  the 
frame  work  of  the  chest  or  thorax.  Referring,  however,  to 
the  plate,  or  to  nature,  we  observe,  that  the  ribs  are  not  con- 
tinued throughout  from  the  spine  to  the  sternum,  but  they 
are  eked  out  and  joined  to  the  breast  bone  by  means  of  pieces 
of  gristle  of  a  form  corresponding  to  that  of  the  ribs, — being 
as  it  were  a  completion  of  the  arch  of  the  rib  by  a  substance 
more  adapted  to  yield  in  every  shock  or  motion  of  the  body. 
A  severe  blow  upon  the  ribs  does  not  break  them,  because 
their  extremities  are  tipped  with  this  elastic  or  springy  sub- 
Btance,  which  recoils  and  yields  to  the  violence.  It  will  also 
be  noticed  how  much  the  same  construction  must  assist  the 
play  of  the  chest  in  the  operation  of  breathing.  The  muscles 
of  respiration  enlarge  the  capacity  of  the  chest  by  elevating 
tlie  ribs ;  and  during  the  momentary  interval  of  muscular  ac- 
tion, the  gristly  parts  of  the  ribs,  from  their  great  elasticity, 
restore  them  to  their  former  position. 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  103 

T.  This  is  stating  the  case  a  little  too  strongly, 
though  I  am  sensible  of  an  admirable  author  you 
may  have  so  understood.  It  was  not,  I  presume,  his 
intention  to  suggest,  there  could  have  been  no  en- 
largement and  contraction  of  the  chest,  if  the  ribs, 
in  their  natural  position,  had  passed  directly  around 
the  body.  But  then  this  is  certain,  the  motion  in 
this  case,  must  have  been  very  considerable  in  the 
ribs  to  have  produced  any  effect ;  whereas  a  slight 
rising  from  a  sloping  position  changes  the  cavity  of 
the  chest  immediately. 

B.  This  is  very  plain.  We  can  see  it  exempli- 
fied by  placing  our  hands  against  our  sides  with  the 
fingers  touching  in  front,  so  as  to  resemble  ribs.  If 
they  pass  directly  across,  a  slight  motion  does  not 
change  their  distance  from  the  breast ;  and  if  they 
were  the  real  ribs,  this  motion  would  not  effect  any 
change  in  the  capacity  of  the  chest :  but,  if  we  first 
slope  them  downwards,  we  find  a  trivial  rising  ex- 
tends them  instantly  from  the  body. 

T.  There  is  other  mechanism  beside  the  ribs  con- 
cerned in  the  action  of  breathing  or  respiration  ;  espe- 
cially the  rising  and  falling  of  the  diaphragm,  which 
is  a  muscle  that  separates  the  chest  from  the  cavity 
beneath.  And  the  wisdom  of  this  is  the  more  observa- 
ble, as  the  ribs  are  liable  to  lose  their  elasticity  by 
age,  and  sometimes  become  incapable  of  motion. 

THE    LOWER    LIMBS. 

The  LIMBS,  which  carry  and  support  the  body, 
form  another  remarkable  part  of  our  structure. 


104  MECHANISM     OF    THE    BONES. 

A.  Each  of  them  is  composed,  that  is,  the  up- 
right limbs,  of  three  bones,  the  same  number  as  in 
the  arm  :  the  two  lower,  called  the  tihia,  a.ndjibula, 
between  the  knee  and  the  ankle,  supporting  a  single 
bone  w^hich  joins  immediately  to  the  body,  and  is 
called  the  femur  or  thigh  bone.  But  notwithstand- 
ing this  general  resemblance  between  the  two  sets  of 
limbs,  there  are  some  remarkable  differences,  which 
are  adapted  still  further  to  increase  our  devout  admi- 
ration of  the  wisdom  and  intelligence  exhibited  in 
the  animal  frame. 

Below  the  knee  the  limb  swings  backwards  ;  be- 
low the  elbow,  it  is  the  reverse.  We  can  assign  no 
natural  reason  why  limbs,  which  otherwise  are  so 
similar,  should  have  been  hung  so  differently.  But 
we  see  the  advantage, — for  let  a  person  only  reflect 
on  the  uncomfortable  effects  of  an  opposite  arrange- 
menU 

The  upper  single  bone  in  the  lower  limbs  is  much 
stronger  than  the  upper  single  bone  corresponding  to 
it  in  the  arm.  Indeed,  the  thigh  bone  is  the  strong- 
est bone  in  the  frame.  We  observe  the  design. 
This  bone  has  to  sustain  the  weight  of  the  body,  and 
the  additional  weight  of  every  burden  we  carry. 

It  is  united  to  the  hip  by  a  ball  and  socket  joint, 
as  is  the  upper  bone  of  the  arm  at  the  shoulder  blade. 
But  the  socket  at  the  shoulder  is  shallow  ;  while  that 
of  the  hip  is  the  deepest  in  the  whole  body.  "This," 
says  Dr.  Paley,  "  agrees  well  with  the  duties  assign- 
ed to  each  part.  The  arm  is  an  instrument  of  mo- 
tion principally,  if  not  solely,  and  accordingly   re- 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  105 

quires  a  shoaler  socket  to  allow  it  a  freer  play. — 
Whereas  the  thigh  bone  forming  a  part  of  the  column 
of  the  body,  having  to  support  the  body,  firmness 
was  principally  to  be  consulted."  Upon  natural 
principles,  however,  the  deeper  socket  ought  to 
have  been  at  the  shoulder.  At  the  hip  the  pressure 
of  the  bone  is  never  against  the  bottom  of  the  re- 
ceptacle, so  as  to  tend  naturally,  as  one  might  say, 
to  deepen  the  cavity.  At  the  shoulder,  on  the  con- 
trary, the  head  of  the  arm  always  forces  into  the  cup 
in  which  it  moves.  The  neck  of  the  thigh  bone  is 
bent  over,  and  enters  sideways.    Consequently,  there 

16. 


This  figure  exhibits  the  neck  of  the  femur  or  thigh  bone,  bent 
over,  and  inserted  by  the  head  into  the  socket  at  a. 

is  no  pressing  inward  at  this  joint.     We  see  why  the 
hip  socket  should  be  made  deep  to  prevent  the  bone 


106         MECHANISM  OF  THE  BONES. 

from  thrusting  by,  as  it  is  not  directly  under  the  sup- 
port :  that  is.  we  see  the  wisdom  of  God,  but  we  dis- 
cover no  other  cause.  Every  natural  tendency  that 
we  can  conceive  of,  would  have  been  precisely  the 
reverse.  The  same  remark  will  apply  to  instances 
without  number  in  the  animal  frame,  where  a  happy 
construction  is  apparently  the  opposite  of  a  natural 
effect,  and  can  only  be  referred  to  a  designing  Intelli- 
gence. 

B.  This  is  certainly  very  skilful  and  striking ;  but 
I  would  ask  why  the  necesity  of  the  oblique  position 
of  the  thigh  bone  ? 

T.  If  you  will  endeavor  in  walking  to  place  it  in 
a  straight  position,  by  keeping  the  feet  so  far  apart  that 
the  limbs  shall  be  perfectly  parallel  to  one  another  and 
perpendicular  to  the  ground,  you  will  find  it  produces 
a  rolling  effect  when  you  rise  from  one  foot  to  the  oth- 
er, as  if  mounted  upon  stilts.  This  is  relieved  by  the 
dishing  or  oblique  direction  of  the  bones — and  you 
will  perceive  it  could  be  avoided  in  no  other  mode. 
Dr.  Bell,  in  the  Library  of  Useful  Knowledge,  has 
some  curious  remarks  upon  the  form  and  position  of 
the  thigh  bone,  showing  how  it  is  calculated  for 
strength  in  consequence  of  the  obliquity,  and  in  which 
he  compares  it  to  the  dishing  of  a  wheel. 

But  there  is  another  provision  in  this  remarkable 
structure  which  invites  our  attention, — the  manner 
in  which  the  hip  joint  is  secured. 

A.  The  joints  in  general,  are  united  by  means  of 
a  strong  band  of  gristle  encompassing  the  heads  of  the 
bones.     This  is  the  case  in  the  ball  and  socket  joint  at 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  lOt 

the  shoulder.  If  a  mechanic  wanted  to  fasten  a  ball  in- 
to a  cup,  so  as  to  allow  free  play  to  the  ball,  he  would 
adopt  the  same  measure.  Now,  it  is  wonderful  to 
observe,  that  in  addition  to  this  security,  the  hip,  a  far 
more  important  joint  than  the  shoulder,  and  more 
dangerous  to  be  dislocated,  and  from  the  position  of 
the  neck  of  the  bone,  more  liable  to  dislocation,  ex- 
hibits an  additional  security, — and  a  more  mechanical, 
artificial  contrivance  one  might  be  challenged  to  im- 
agine. It  is  this  :  a  short,  strong,  yet  pliable  ligament 
resembling  a  leathern  thong,  is  inserted  by  one  end 
into  the  head  of  the  bone,  and  by  the  other  into  the 
bottom  of  the  socket. — It  is  hardly  practicable  to  break 
it.  It  will  scarcely  admit  of  being  even  extended. 
Its  situation  is  such  that  it  cannot  be  cut,  without  clea- 
ving the  bone.  Whoever  will  reflect  upon  this  single 
provision,  taking  into  view  its  singular  importance  to 
this  joint,  and  that  it  is  not  generally  assigned  to  the 
other  joints,  and  then  how  precisely  it  is  what  our 
own  expedient  would  have  been  in  a  similar  case, — 
must  be  disposed  to  say  with  Paley,  "Jif  is  an  in- 
stance upon  which  I  lay  my  hand.  For  the  purpose 
of  addressing  different  understandings  and  different 
apprehensions,  for  the  purpose  of  sentiment,  for  the 
purpose  of  exciting  admiration  of  the  Creator's  works, 
we  diversify  our  views,  we  multiply  examples  :  but, 
for  the  purpose  of  strict  argument,  one  clear  instance 
is  sufficient ;  and  not  only  sufficient,  but  capable, 
perhaps,  of  generating  a  firmer  assurance,  than  what 
can  arise  from  a  divided  attention." 


108 


MECHANISM    OF    THE    BONES. 


Fig.    17. 


A  part  of  the  hip  joint  is  here  taken  off,  for  the  purpose  of  ex- 
hibiting the  round  ligament  a,  which  is  seen  connecting  the 
head  of  the  thigh  bone  with  the  bottom  of  the  socket.  It  al- 
lows considerable  latitude  of  motion,  at  the  same  time  it  is 
the  great  safeguard  against  dislocation.  It  is  hardly  imagino- 
ble  how  great  a  force  is  necessary  to  stretch,  still  more  to 
break  this  ligament ; — yet  so  flexible  is  it  as  to  oppose  no  im- 
pediment to  the  suppleness  of  the  joint. 

T.  We  will  now  close  the  description  of  the  bones 
and  joints,  with  another  striking  instance  of  wisdom 
and  design  in  the  formation  of  the  foot. 


THE     FOOT. 

A.  The  FOOT  is  composed  of  twenty-six  little 
bones,  united  together  by  gristle,  a  very  elastic  sub- 
stance under  a  hard  pressure.  So  many  joints  impart 
the  advantage  of  a  spring — and  of  enabling  the  foot 
to  conform  itself  to  the  surfaces  of  objects  upon  which 
we  tread.     Any  one  must  be  sensible  of  the  incon- 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  109 

venience  of  a  wooden  foot*^;  and  the  inconvenience 
would  be,  it  would  have  no  spring  ;  and  would  be  in- 
capable of  suiting  its  shape  to  the  inequalities  upon 
which  we  stand  or  walk.  But  the  number  of  bones 
is  only  a  part  of  this  admirable  mechanism.  The 
arching  of  the  foot  is  an  obvious  proof  of  contrivance. 
If  the  bottom  of  the  foot  was  perfectly  flat,  it  is  plain 
it  must  have  had  a  heavy  and  uncomfortable  effect. 
One  may  easily  perceive  this,  by  lashing  the  bottom 
of  the  foot  to  a  strip  of  wood.  There  could  be  no 
spring  with  a  flat  foot.  But  as  the  construction  is, 
the  two  extremities  only  of  the  foot  rest  upon  the 
ground,  while  the  elastic  arch  in  the  centre  yields  to 
the  pressure,  and  causes  the  weight  of  the  body  when 
we  walk,  to  play,  as  it  were,  upon  a  constant  spring. 

B.  We  now  see  the  use  of  the  heel,  and  it  is 
a  use  which  one  would  not  immediately  think  of  It 
helps  to  form  the  arch. 

T.     But  this  is  not  all  the  use. 

A.  The  heel  is  not  directly  under  the  leg,  but  ex- 
tends back  like  a  spur,  and  is  united  to  the  main  body 
of  the  foot,  by  a  very  firm,  but  still  a  considerably 
springy  joint.  The  effect  of  this  is,  when  the  heej 
touches  the  ground  in  walking,  and  it  touches  first, — 
in  consequence  of  its  being  formed  like  a  spur,  and 
having  a  spring  at  the  same  time,  the  whole  weight  of 

the  body  does  not  come  down  with  a  sudden  jolt ; 

there  is  not  only  a  yielding  in  the  point  of  support, 
but  we  descend  in  a  curve,  the  centre  of  which  is  the 
ball  of  the  heel.     If  it  were  not  for  this  contrivance- 

K 


110        MECHANISM  OF  THE  BONES. 

we  should  always  walk  as  upon  stilts.     The  leg  would 
strike  the  ground,  like  a  cane. 


Fig.    18. 


In  this  figure  the  foot  is  represented  as  descending  to  the  ground 
in  a  semicircle  from  the  point  of  the  heel.  Owing  to  this 
circumstance,  in  connexion  with  the  elasticity  of  the  parts, 
the  force  of  the  blow  is  diminished. 

T.  Are  there  any  peculiarities  in  the  feet  or 
limbs  of  different  animals,  adapted  to  their  particu- 
lar necessities  ? 

A.  In  the  first  place  the  foot  of  the  monkey,  as 
well  as  the  hand  exhibits  a  structure  unlike  that  of  the 
human  species.  The  monkey's  foot  has  an  additional 
muscle.  The  muscles  which  move  the  toes  are  also 
differently  disposed,  and  compel  the  animal  to  rest 
more  upon  the  outer  edge  of  the  foot  than  upon  the 
bottom.  In  the  limbs  of  all  animals,  though  not  so 
much  in  the  heavier  species,  there  are  sloping  joints, 
or  joints  which  make  a  bend.  This  enables  the  limbs 
to  give  or  spring  in  some  degree,  under  the  weight 
of  the  body,  so  as  to  prevent  a  pounding  stroke.  In 
the  horse,  for  example,  we  perceive  the  whole  length 
of  the  limb  from  the  body  to  the  ground,  is  very  far 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  Ill 

from  being  a  straight  line.  Besides  the  bends  about 
midway  of  the  hind  legs,  which  are  the  limbs  with 
which  the  animal  has  most  occasion  to  spring — there 
is  one  upon  every  leg  just  above  the  hoof,  called  the 
fetlock  joint.  And  then  there  is  a  spring  even  in  the 
hoof.  "  The  flatness  of  the  hoof,  which  stretches 
out  on  each  side,  and  the  frog  coming  down  in  the 
middle  between  the  quarters,  adds  greatly  to  the 
springiness  of  the  foot.  Ignorant  smiths,  by  shaping 
and  fixing  the  shoe  improperly,  often  deprive  the 
animal  of  the  benefit  of  this  provision.  His  foot 
strikes  the  ground  with  an  unyielding  blow,  and 
inflammation  and  lameness  at  last  ensue." 

B.  They  are  not  always  acquainted,  it  is  likely, 
with  this  curious  structure  ;  but  it  is  a  pity  so  much 
sufiering  should  be  occasioned  for  the  want  of  a  little 
attention. 

A.  This  admirable  mechanism  of  the  foot,  which 
Providence  has  so  kindly  adapted  to  the  wants  of  dif- 
ferent animals,  is  strikingly  exemplified  in  the  case  of 
the  reindeer.  "It  inhabits  a  country  covered  with 
snow  the  greater  part  of  the  year,  and  its  hoof  is 
admirably  formed  for  going  over  that  cold  and  light 
substance  without  sinking  into  it  or  being  frozen. 
The  under  side  is  covered  entirely  with  hair,  of  a 
warm  and  close  texture.  And  the  hoof  altogether  is 
very  broad,  acting  exactly  like  the  snow  shoes  which 
men  have  constructed  for  giving  them  a  large  space  tr 
stand  on  their  feet  and  thus  to  avoid  sinking.  More- 
over, the  deer  spreads  the  hoof  as  wide  as  possible, 
when  it  touches  the  ground,  but  as  this  breadth  would 


112         MECHANISM  OF  THE  BONES. 

be  inconvenient  in  the 'air,  by  occasioning  a  greater 
resistance  from  the  air,  while  he  is  moving  along,  no 
sooner  does  he  lift  the  hoof,  than  the  two  parts  into 
which  it  is  cloven  fall  together,  and  so  lessen  the  sur- 
face exposed  to  the  air." 

T.  But  there  is  another  structure  of  the  foot 
which  will  lead  us  still  farther  to  admire  the  wisdom 
and  contrivance  exhibited  in  the  animal  mechanism. 

A.  It  is  that  of  the  fly,  by  which  it  is  enabled  to 
walk  upon  a  perpendicular  wall. 

B.  This  motion  in  these  little  insects  always 
seems  unaccountable,  especially  when  they  run  so 
fast  upon  a  glass  window.  The  only  reason  I  can 
tliink  of  is,  that  they  have  something  sticky  upon 
their  feet, — or  that  there  are  rough  places  in  the 
glass  or  wall  by  which  they  are  able  to  climb  up, 

T.  Any  thing  adhesive  upon  the  foot  would  be 
a  constant  impediment,  especially  to  an  insect, — and 
to  have  to  climb  up  upon  points  would  be  excessively 
inconvenient.  They  are  enabled  to  perform  this  mo- 
tion by  a  most  curious  philosophical  contrivance^ 
Can  you  describe  it?  It  forms  one  of  the  innumerable 
instances  in  which  we  discover  the  powers  of  science, 
if  we  may  so  express  it,  subservient  to  the  opera- 
tions of  an  all  wise  and  Creative  Intelligence. 

A.  The  air  is  said  to  exert  a  pressure  upon  bodies 
equal  to  between  fourteen  or  fifteen  pounds  to  every 
square  inch  of  surface,  so  that  upon  one  of  our  hand.- 
the  weight  of  the  atmosphere  is  more  than  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  pounds.  The  hand  is  not  borne  down- 
ward; because  the  air  presses  alike  in  every  direction. 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY. 


113 


and  therefore  the  downward  pressure  is  resisted  by  an 
upward  one  precisely  equal.  But  if  the  air  on  one  side 
of  the  hand  was  removed,  the  weight  upon  the  other 
side  would  remain  unbalanced,  and  we  should  be  sen- 
sible of  the  force  exerted.  An  experiment  is  easily 
tried.  If  we  put  a  piece  of  burning  paper  into  a  wine 
glass  and  then  suddenly  cover  it  with  the  hand,  thfe 
hand  will  be  holden  fast  to  the  glass.  The  reason  is, 
the  air  has  been  in  some  measure  expelled  by  the  fire, 
so  that  there  is  now  an  unequal  pressure  upon  the  two 
surfaces  of  the  hand,  the  greater  pressure  being  above, 
which  produces  the  effect  we  experience.  If  we  could 
press  our  foot  upon  the  floor  with  sufficient  force  to 
make  the  sole  absolutely  touch  at  every  point,  and  per- 
fectly expel  every  particle  of  the  atmosphere,  there 
would  be  the  same  effect.  A  foot  of  the  common 
size  would  be  holden  down  with  a  w^eight  more  than 
equal  to  that  of  a  barrel  of  flour  ;  it  could  no  more  be 
lifted  than  if  such  a  weight  were  placed  upon  it,  not 
till  in  some  manner  the  sole  was  drawn  up,  beginning 
at  one  edge  and  gradually  letting  in  the  air,  like  rais- 
ing a  plaster.  This  is  found  to  be  the  construction  of 
the  fly's  foot.  There  is  a  skin  or  flap  upon  the  sole 
which  it  can  draw  down  so  close  upon  the  wall  as  to 
squeeze  out  the  air  completely,  and  the  consequence  is 
that  the  foot  adheres  with  considerable  force. 

It  has  also  been  found  that  some  of  the  large  am- 
phibious animals  which  inhabit  the  polar  regions  have 
the  same  formation  of  the  foot,  only  upon  a  greater 
scale.  By  this  means  they  are  able  to  climb  the 
floating  masses  of  ice  among  which  they  live. 
k2 


114  MECHANISM     OF    THE    MUSCLES. 

B.  So  we  have  here  the  principle  of  an  air  pump. 
How  impossible  to  imagine  any  thing  hut  intelUgence, 
when  we  witness  such  examples  of  philosophical 
mechanism  ! 

In  the  feet  of  aquatic  birds,  besides  the  web  or 
membrane  between  the  toes  by  which  they  are  ena- 
bled to  make  a  broader  and  more  powerful  stroke  up- 
on the  water,  another  peculiarity  has  been  less  fre- 
quently noticed,  viz.  that  their  feet  are  situated  fur- 
ther back  than  those  of  other  birds.  This  enables 
them  to  thrust  themselves  forward  more  directly  and 
with  greater  force  in  the  water.  The  breast  is  not 
tipped  down,  when  the  animal  strikes  the  water  be- 
hind, because  the  breasts  of  all  aquatichhds  are  pecu- 
liarly broad  and  covered  with  oily  feathers  which  ren- 
der them  so  buoyant,  that  this  position  of  the  feet  is 
even  necessary  to  enable  the  animal  to  dive,  by  means 
of  the  stroke  of  the  feet  so  near  the  hinder  extremity 
of  the  body.  Their  legs  also  are  shorter  in  propor- 
tion than  usual,  in  consequence  of  which  the  resis- 
tance of  the  water  is  diminished. 

MUSCLES    AND    TENDONS. 

A,  We  now  come  to  another  view  of  this  won- 
derful workmanship.  Having  surveyed  the  admirable 
mechanism  of  the  frame  work,  we  are  next  to  see  the 
curious  machinery  which  the  All-wise  Artificer  has 
employed   for   putting  all   this  apparatus  in  motion. 

By  what  meaiis  are  the  motions  of  the  bones 
performed  ? 

A.  By  what  are  called  the  muscles  and  tendons. 
Though  the  flesh  has  the  appearance,  at  first  view,  of 


NATURAL   THEOLOGY.  115 

tone  general  mass  of  substance  spread  over  the  bones, 
it  is,  in  fact,  composed  of  five  hundred  and  twenty- 
seven  separate  strips  of  different  sizes  and  shapes  ; 
and  each  of  these  is  what  is  termed  a  muscle.  They 
play  freely  over  one  another,  and  have  a  fatty  matter 
between,  which  renders  their  motions  easy.  If  the 
whole  flesh  of  the  body  was  dissected,  as  it  would  naU 
urally  separate,  it  would  come  apart  in  these  five  hun- 
dred and  twenty  seven  strips,  as  smooth  and  as  clean 
as  so  many  straps  of  gum  elastic.  Each  of  them 
may  be  termed  a  rope  to  produce  some  particular  mo- 
tion. The  middle  is  fleshy  and  red,  and  usually 
takes  the  name  of  the  muscle.  This  portion  is  al- 
ways the  largest ;  then  it  goes  on  diminishing  in  size 
towards  each  extremity,  where  it  terminates  in  a  white 
leathery  string  or  strap,  which  is  called  the  tendon. 
Every  muscle,  with  a  few  exceptions,  is  fastened 
between  two  different  bones,  going  from  one  to  the 
other ;  and  the  object  is,  to  pull  the  bones  together,  or 
to  draw  them  in  any  direction  which  the  pulling  would 
give  them.  Thus  are  all  the  motions  of  the  bones 
performed.  If  we  tie  a  strap  of  gum  elastic  to  our 
tliumb  and  finger,  and  spread  them  open  so  as  to  ex- 
tend the  strap ,.jlie  force  it  will  exert  to  draw  them 
together,  may  give  us  a  very  tolerable  idea  of  the 
action  of  a  muscle  upon  the  bones  to  which  it  is  at- 
tached. 

T.  As  the  muscle,  however,  is  not  found  to  be 
any  thing  like  gum  elastic,  what  makes  it  contract  so 
as  to  pull  upon  the  bones  ? 

A.  The  middle  or  fleshy  part  has  the  power  of 
shortening  itself  at  our  will  ;  and  in  some  instances 


116  MECHANISM    OF    THE    MUSCLES. 

the  muscle  seems  to  act  of  its  own  accord  ;  this  is 
about  all  the  explanation  our  knowledge  of  the  subject 
at  present  enables  us  to  give  ;  except  that  there  are 
little  shining  threads,  called  the  nerves,  and  which 
are  fine  branches  of  the  spinal  marrow  or  brain,  that 
enter  into  all  the  muscles,  ''and  which,  if  divided  or 
injured,  the  muscle  is  deprived  of  all  its  power. 
When  the  muscle  shortens,  it  swells.  If  we  bend  the 
arm,  and  grasp  it  at  the  same  time,  a  little  above  the 
elbow,  we  feel  a  swelling  under  the  hand  ; — the  mus- 
cle, which  contracts,  and  produces  the  flexure,  being 
situated  in  that  part  of  the  arm. 

T.  As  you  have  a  clear  idea,  I  perceive,  of 
a  muscle,  we  will  look  at  some  of  the  examples  of 
Creative  skill  and  design  in  this  part  of  our  structure. 
If  an  artist  were  to  contrive  a  machine  with  wires 
and  strings  to  produce  an  imitation  of  our  motions, 
how  would  he  apply  his  apparatus  to  effect  opposite 
movements  with  the  same  part  ? — to  make  the  arm, 
for  example,  move  backward  and  forward  ? 

A.  Wherever  a  string  was  employed  to  pull  for^ 
ward  any  part,  there  would  be  a  corresponding  one 
on  the  opposite  side  to  draw  it  hack ;  and  all  the 
strings  would  be  divided  into  pairs  for  this  purpose. 
It  is  exactly  the  same  in  the  living  structure.  The 
muscles  are  in  pairs.  To  move  the  arm  fonvard 
there  is  a  muscle  before  ;  to  move  it  backw^ard  there 
is  a  muscle  behind.  It  were  difficult  to  conceive 
what  could  be  more  expressive  of  design. 

B.  In  the  five  hundred  and  twenty-seven  muscles, 
therefore,  w^e  have  as  many  separate  arguments  of 
design,   as  there  are  pairs,  into  which  the  muscles 


natuAal  theology.  II7 

can  be  divided.  If  it  could  be  imagined  that  a  single 
example  was  possibly  accidental  ;  that  there  happens 
by  chance,  to  be  a  muscle  to  straighten  the  arm — and 
another  to  bend  it,  how  are  we  to  believe  this  of  two 
hundred  and  fifty  examples  ;  or  that  all  the  muscles 
happen  accidentally  to  be  paired  ? 

T.  What  is,  if  possible,  a  more  wonderful  evi- 
dence of  design,  it  is  said,  the  flexor  muscles,  (so  na- 
med from  a  Latin  word,  signifying  to  bend,)  have 
fibres  of  greater  strength  and  more  numerous  than 
those  of  the  extensors,  or  the  muscles  which  merely 
extend  and  recover  the  limb  ; — and  that  the  flexors 
which  have  to  make  the  principal  effort,  are  fastened 
to  better  advantage,  for  the  exertion  of  their  power. 
B.  What  manifest  purpose  and  intelligence ! 
When  we  bend  the  arm,  it  is  generally  to  lift 
a  weight,  but  never  when  we  straighten  it ;  and 
hence  we  require  stronger  flexors  than  extensors; 
and  the  superior  strength  of  the  former  is  not  owing, 
it  seems,  to  exercise,  but  to  the  original  structure  of 
the  muscle.     There  are  more  strands  to  the  rope, 

T.  What  part  of  the  contrivance  of  a  muscle  is 
the  tendon,  or  the  white,  leathery  string  in  which  the 
muscle  usually  terminates  ? 

A.  Besides  that  the  tendon  is  much  more  firm 
and  tough  than  the  muscle,  and  therefore  more  fit  for 
fastening  to  the  bone,  for  which  purpose  it  is  employ- 
ed ;  the  muscle  or  fleshy  part  can  be  placed  in  any 
situation  which  is  most  convenient,  and  its  motion  be 
communicated  by  means  of  the  tendons,  like  so 
many  wires  and  strings  to  any  part  where  the  motion 
m^J  be  wanted,      Thus,  there   are   many   tendons 


118  MECHANISM    OF    THE    MUSCLES. 

which  pass  down  to  the  fingers,  while  the  muscles 
that  pull  them  are  situated  out  of  the  way  in  the  arm 
ahove,  without  encumbering  the  wrist,  palms,  and  de- 
licate little  members  upon  which  they  draw.  It  is 
like  having  the  water  wheel  of  a  manufactory  in 
a  separate  room,  and  communicating  its  power  by 
bands  and  smaller  machinery  into  the  apartments 
where  it  is  wanted. 

T.     Is  there  any  particular  wisdom  discovered  in 
the  structure  of  a  tendon  ? 

A,  It  is  the  perfection  of  a  rope.  We  see  the 
reason  of  its  superiority  upon  mechanical  principles, 
that  is,  in  part  we  see  it,  from  the  higher  skill  which 
is  employed  as  to  the  manner  of  laying  the  strands  or 
fibres  together,  to  give  it  the  greatest  strength.  To 
understand  what  is  necessary  to  the  strength  of  a  rope 
or  cable,  we  must  learn  what  has  been  the  object  of 
the  improvements  and  patents  in  this  manufacture^. 
The  first  process  in  rope  making,  is  placing  the  long  fi- 
bres of  the  hemp  side  by  side,  or  parallel  to  one  another. 
The  second,  is  spinning  the  hemp  into  yarns.  And 
here  the  principle  must  be  attended  to,,  which  goes 
through  the  whole  process  in  forming  a  cable ; 
which  is,  that  the  fibres  of  the  hemp  shall  bear  an 
equal  strain.  The  third,  is  making  the  strands.  The 
last  step  of  the  process  is  forming  the  strands  into 
ropes.  The  difficulty  of  the  art  has  been  to  make 
them  bear  alike,  especially  in  great  cables,  and  this 
has  been  the  object  in  patent  machinery.  In  the 
twisting  of  the  yarns,  and  then  of  the  strands,  those 
which  are  on  the  outer  surface  must  be  more  strecthed 


NATURAL   THEOLOGY.  Il9 

than  those  near  the  centre  ;  consequently,  when  there 
is  a  strain  upon  the  rope,  the  outer  fibres  will  break 
first  and  the  others  in  succession.  A  rope,  of  a  new 
patent,  has  been  made,  which  is  said  to  be  many  times 
stronger  than  any  other  cord  of  the  same  dimensions. 
The  strands  are  plaited,  (that  is,  interwoven  or  in- 
terlaced as  in  a  splice  or  braid,)  instead  of  being  twis- 
ted. Now,  if  the  strong  tendon  of  the  heel,  or 
Achilles'  tendon,  be  taken  as  an  example,  it  will  be 
found  to  consist  of  subdivisions,  which  are  like  the 
strands  of  a  rope  ;  but  instead  of  being  parallel 
or  twisted,  they  are  plaited  or  interwoven  in  a  man- 
ner which  could  not  be  imitated  in  cordage  by  the 
turning  of  a  wheel.  * 

B.  It  is  wonderful  how  many  difierent  kinds  of 
arts  are  exemplified  in  the  animal  structure.  We 
have  had  that  of  the  cabinet  maker,  and  the  teles- 
cope maker,  and  several  others, — and  now  we  have 
that  of  the  rope  maker  in  perfection. 

T.  You  have  given  the  celebrated  Dr.  Bell's 
account  of  the  tendons,  upon  which  you  will  find 
some  observations  in  Arnott  on  the  Elements  of 
Physics.  All  other  cords  and  bands  wear  out  or  are 
weakened  by  use.  Is  this  the  case  with  the  muscles 
and  tendons  ? 

A.  It  is  not,  but  the  reverse.  They  become  fir- 
mer and  stronger  by  exercise  ;  and  it  shows  the 
kind  wisdom  of  Providence,  that  when  any  employ- 
ment happens  to  call  for  greater  muscular  efibrt  in 

*Dr.  Bell. 


120  MECHANISM    OF    THE    MUSCLES. 

any  particular  part,  as  that  of  the  porter  in  the  back  ; 
the  sailor  in  the  hands  and  arras,  &c. ;  the  strength 
necessary  is  made  to  arise  from  the  very  exertions 
which  requires  it.  The  necessity  furnishes  its  own 
supply. 

B.  This  is  as  though  the  sailor  were  to  change 
a  small  rope  into  a  cal^le,  merely  by  fastening  on  an 
anchor.  Creative  power  alone  can  accomplish  such 
wonders. 

T.  The  subject  is  of  so  much  concern  to  us  in 
many  respects,  that  it  is  important  the  principle 
should  be  remembered.  Do  you  recollect  Dr.  Bell's 
observations  in  his  Animal  Mechanics  ? 

A.  "  Exercise,"  he  remarks,  "  unfolds  fully  the 
muscular  system,  producing  a  full,  bold  outline  of  the 
limbs,  at  the  same  time  that  the  joints  are  knit,  small 
and  clean.  In  the  loins,  thighs  and  legs  of  a  dancer, 
we  see  the  muscular  system  fully  developed,  and 
when  we  turn  our  attention  to  his  puny  and  dispro- 
portioned  arms,  we  acknowledge  the  cause,  that  in 
the  one  instance,  exercise  has  produced  perfection, 
and  that  in  the  other,  the  want  of  it,  has  occasioned 
deformity.  Look  to  the  legs  of  a  poor  Irishman, 
travelling  to  the  harvest  with  bear  feet ;  the  thick- 
ness and  roundness  of  the  calf  show  that  the  foot 
and  toes  are  free  to  prevent  the  exercise  of  the  mus- 
cles of  the  leg.  Look,  again,  to  the  leg  of  an  En- 
glish peasant,  whose  foot  and  ankle  are  tightly  laced 
in  a  shoe  with  a  wooden  sole,  and  you  will  perceive 
from  the  manner  in  which  he  lifts  his  legs,  that  the 
play  of  the  ankle,  foot,  and  toes,  is  lost  as  much  as  if 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  ISk 

lie  went  on  stilts,  and,  therefore,  are   his  legs  small 
and  shapeless." 

B.     I  have  read  that  those  who  are  employed  at  the 
different  quays  in    I^ondon,  to  load  and  unload  ships 
sometimes   carry  burthens   which  would  almost,  kill 
a  horse  ;  and  that  men  who  are  accustomed  to  hunt- 
ing will   outrun  horses,  or  at  least  can  bear  the   e:jf- 
ercise  longer  ;  and  even  in  walking,  a  man,   who  has 
been  in  the  habit  of  it,  will  go  further  in  a  day  than 
a  horse  can  ;  and  if  he  do  not  accomplish  it  the  first 
day,  he  will  be  able  to  continue  his  journey  many  days 
without  inconvenience,  while  the  horse    will  be   ex- 
hausted with  fatigue  in  much  less  time.     It  is  said  by 
travellers  that  Hottentots  can  outstrip  horses  ;  and  that 
the  savages  in  America  who  hunt  the  elk  pursue  these 
animals,  though  they  are  as  fleet  as  stags,  till  they  tire 
them  out  and  catch  them.     The  civilized  part  of  man- 
kind  seem    not    to    be    acquainted   w^ith   their    own- 
strength  ;    and  indeed  they  are  so  situated  as  to  have 
Ihtle  occasion   for  great  physical  exertions. — But  we 
should  praise  the  admirable   wisdom  with  which  the 
body  is  formed,  to  be  capable  of  them  when  they  are 
rendered  necessary. 

T.  Though  but  a  small  part  of  the  muscular  pow- 
er of  which  we  are  capable  may  be  called  into  use  in 
the  ordinary  occupations  of  life,"  the  body  that  is 
strengthened  by  habits  of  temperance  and  exercise  is 
best  adapted  to  resist  disease,  and  to  withstand  the 
effects  of  exposure.  The  vigor  of  the  mind  partici- 
pates with  that  of  the  body,  and  professional  writers 
observe  that  the  very  shape  is  injuriously  affected  by 


.   122  MECHANISM    OF    THE    MUSCLES. 

indolent  and  effeminate  habits. — The  muscles  by 
which  the  joints  are  compressed  and  kept  in  their 
right  position  become  relaxed  ;  the  consequence  of 
which  is,  that  the  bones  are  gradually  displaced,  and 
produce  deformity.  The  curvature  of  the  spine  and 
shoulders  is  supposed  to  be  often  owing  to  this  cause; 
and  hence  exercise  and  active  employments  are  now 
principally  recommended  to  correct  any  such  tenden- 
cy, especially  in  those  young  persons  who  are  in  pe- 
culiar danger  of  so  serious  an  evil,  from  the  greater 
delicacy  of  their  system,  and  more  sedentary  and  re- 
tired habits.  We  very  rarely  observe  any  such  im- 
perfection among  the  laboring  classes. 

Anatomists  notice  a  remarkable  attention  to  me- 
chanical principles,  in  the  situation  of  the  muscles, — 
and  the  manner  in  which  they  are  applied  to  move 
the  limbs. 

A.  First,  there  are  always  muscles  where  the 
bone  would  admit  of  any  motion,  but  no  where  be- 
sides ;  that  is,  in  all  the  five  hundred  and  twenty-sev- 
en muscles,  there  is  not  one  mislaid,  or  rendered 
useless  by  its  situation  ;  there  is  not  one  which  pulls 
against  the  joint  without  effect  ;  and  further,  there  is 
not  a  single  motion  of  which  the  form  of  the  bone  and 
joint  will  admit,  but  there  is  a  muscle  or  set  of  mus- 
cles provided  to  produce  that  motion.  This  admir- 
able harmony  is  one  of  the  most  striking  evidences 
of  an  Intelligent  Architeect.  It  is  the  same  as  in 
examining  the  rigging  of  a  ship,  to  find  through  all 
the  intricacy  of  the  tackle,  every  rope  suited  to  its 
place. 


NATURAL    THEOLOGT.  123 

The  manner  in  which  the  muscles  apply  their 
power  to  move  the  bones  discovers  a  perfect  acquain- 
tance with  the  mechanical  laws  pertinent  to  such  ca- 
ses. Generally  speaking,  every  muscle  is  fastened 
firmly  at  one  end  to  a  bone  it  cannot  move,  or  which 
is  sufficiently  fast  to  pull  by,  and,  at  the  other,  to  the 
bone  it  is  intended  to  move  or  to  pull  upon.  A  cord 
tied  between  a  door  and  the  partition  may  give  a  very 
good  idea  of  the  action  of  a  muscle.  The  moving 
bone  is  the  door ;  the  joint,  is  the  hinge  ;  while  the 
shortening  of  the  muscle  moves  the  bone,  in  the  same 
manner,  as  the  shortening  of  the  string  moves  the 
door.  Thus  a  muscle  is  fastened  to  the  bone  of  the 
upper  arm  which  comes  down  over  the  elbow  joint, 
and  is  attached  to  the  arm  below.  By  the  contrac- 
tion of  this  muscle  the  lower  arm  is  raised  up.      -     • 

Fig.    19. 


In  this  figure  b  represents  the  bone  of  the  upper  arm ;  a,  the 
muscle  which  bends  the  fore  arm,  and  which  is  inserted  below 
the  elbow  into  the  radius  at  d.  It  will  be  seen  that  the  short- 
ening of  this  muscle  must  necessarily  raise  the  arm,  d,  c. 

T.     And  what  is  observable  is,  that  the  place 
where  the  muscle  is  fastened  to  the  moving  bone,  is 


124  MECHANISM    OF    THE    MUSCLES. 

SO  very  near  the  joint.     Here  is  an  admirable  atten- 
tion to  mechanical  laws. 

B.  This  does  not  seem  very  intelligible.  One 
would  think  the  muscle  would  pull  to  great  disadvan- 
tage from  being  inserted  so  close  to  the  joint.  It 
would  seem  like  drawing  to  a  door  with  a  string  fast- 
ened just  by  the  hinge,  v/hich  every  one  knows  would 
make  it  very  hard  to  move  the  door.  The  elbow 
certainly  appears  to  be  bent  with  a  great  loss  of  me- 
chanical power.  Itv/ouldseem  far  better  if  the  mus- 
cle, which  raises  the  fore  arm  had  reached  down  to 
the  hand,  and  been  inserted  at  c.  This  would  have 
given  a  greater  purchase. 

A.  The  advantage  obtained  is  this,  and  the  door 
is  a  good  explanation.  When  the  string  is  fastened 
very  near  the  hinge,  it  requires  a  strong  pull  to  draw 
the  door  ;blit  then,  if  the  strength  is  sufficient,  it  will 
make  the  door  move  much  more  swiftly  than  if  the 
string  V7ere  attached  at  a  greater  distance  from  the 
hinge.  So,  when  a  mechanic  is  raising  a  ladder,  if 
he  is  able  to  lift  it  up  by  taking  hold  of  one  of  the 
lower  rounds,  close  to  the  foot,  where  the  ladder 
turns  upon  the  ground, — we  may  say,  where  the 
hinge  is,  in  that  case  he  will  do  the  business  much 
more  quickly  than  if  he  were  to  begin  at  the  farther 
end.  Thus,  the  nearer  the  joint  the  muscle  acts,  the 
swifter  the  motion  produced,  provided  the  strength 
of  the  muscles  is  sufficient, 

T.  And  for  this,  provision  is  made.  The  Creator 
has  given  sufficient  vital  power  to  the  muscles  to  ad- 
mit of  this  sacrifice  of  the  mechanical  ov  lever  power„ 


NATURAL  THEOLOGY,  125 

as  they  evidently  require  to  be  stronger  on  account  of 
their  insertion  so  near  the  joint.  Thus,  a  small 
thread  would  move  a  door,  if  applied  to  the  handle, 
though  it  would  snap  asunder,  if  fastened  close  to  the 
hinge.  But  let  it  be  a  strong  cord  and  a  powerful 
hand,  and  the  nearer  the  hinge  the  better  for  a  swift 
motion.  Now,  rapid  motions  are  necessary  to  us  in 
a  thousand  familiar  actions. 

B.  I  perceive  it.  The  rajpidity  of  the  motion 
is  frequently  the  first  object  required ;  as  in  cleaving 
wood,  driving  a  nail,  he.  Here  a  slow  motion,  how- 
ever forcible  would  not  answer  the  purpose.  A  gi- 
ant could  not  ^ress  a  wedge  into  a  stick  of  timber. 
By  the  present  arrangement,  I  see  we  have  an  ap- 
plication of  the  muscular  power  without  which  it 
would  be  insufficient  for  many  actions  quite  necessary 
for  our  existence,  and  the  all-wise  Artist  has  rather 
chosen  to  strengthen  the  power  itself,  and  subject  it 
to  some  mechanical  disadvantages,  than  not  to  assign 
it  the  best  situation  for  the  uses  for  which  it  is  re- 
quired. How  amazing  is  that  skill  which  has  so 
wisely  arranged  every  part  of  our  frame  ! 

T.  We  seem  to  understand  this  organization  so 
well,  I  will  venture  upon  another  still  more  curious. 

B.  When  we  visit  a  manufactory  we  are  eager  to 
get  some  general  idea  of  the  machinery :  how  much 
more  interested  should  we  feel  to  obtain  what  insight 
we  can  into  the  works  of  our  Almighty  and  benefi- 
cent Creator! 

Ti    I  was  going  to  state  a  curious  fact  respecting 
the  muscles,  and  I  beg  your  attention.    Between 
L2 


126  MECHANISM   OF    THE    MUSCLES. 

every  two  ribs  on  each  side  of  the  body  there  are 
muscles  to  pull  these  ribs  together,  which  is  one 
part  of  the  operation  of  breathing.  It  is  necessary, 
you  perceive,  the  motion  should  be  capable  of  being 
performed  very  quickly,  because  we  sometimes  have 
occasion  to  breathe  very  quickly.  How  is  this  mO' 
tion  best  effected  ? 

B.  One  would  say,  by  having  the  muscles,  that 
pull  the  ribs  together^  pass  as  straight  across,  as 
possible. 

T.  So  it  might  seem  *  but  it  is  just  the  reverse, 
in  principle  an^  fact.  The  muscles  do  not  go  direct- 
ly across  from  bone  to  bone ;  that  is,  the  strands  or 
fibres  of  the  muscles  slo^e  very  much  from  one 
bone  to  the  other.  Can  you  explain  it  ?  If  so,  you 
will  know  something  of  a  curious  principle  in  me- 
chanics and  of  the  wisdom  with  which  you  are  made 
at  the  same  time. 

A.  The  door  seems  to  illustrate  it  very  plainly. 
If  the  door  of  a  room  be  thrown  back  against  the 
partition,  and  a  person,  pulling  it  with  a  string,  stand 
close  to  the  door  post,-*— in  this  situation,  the  line 
will  slope  along  in  the  same  direction  very  nearly 
with  the  door.  Shortening  the  cord  a  foot  or  two 
now,  he  will  perceive  this  sloping  position  of  the 
line,  produces  a  much  quicker  motion  in  the  door 
than  pulling  in  the  same  quantity,  when  the  door 
has  come  to,  so  that  the  line  is  no  longer  flat  with 
the  door,  but  nearly  perpendicular  to  it.  Whoever 
tries  the  experiment  will  find  it  to  be  so.     Now,  the 


NATURAL  THEOLOGY.  127 

shying  direction  of  the  muscular  fibres  between  the 
ribs  must  operate  in  the  same  way.  It  must  produce 
a  swifter  motion  than  in  any  other  position  in  which 
the  muscles  could  be  applied. 


a,  d,  c,  b,  two  ribs  exhibiting  a  part  of  the  intervening  muscles, 
passing  obliquely  from  bone  to  bone ;  by  which  direction  of 
the  muscles  a  mechanical  advantage  is  obtained  as  to  the 
quickness  of  the  motion,  for  the  purpose  of  respiration  or 
breathing. 

But  there  is  a  still  more  remarkable  circumstance 
to  be  noticed  in  the  structure  before  us,  which  shows 
the  perfect  foresight,  and  knowledge  of  mechanical 
laws  exhibited  in  our  frame.  Do  you  not  perceive  that 
the  sidelong  action  of  these  muscular  strings  a,  h, 
must  tend,  while  they  pull  the  ribs  together,  to  give 
II  sidelong  motion  to  the  bones  themselves,  to  cause 
the  rib  «,  dy  to  move  to  the  right  and  the  rib  c,  h,  to 
the  left,  and  thus  make  them  crowd  against  the 
places  where  their  ends  are  inserted  ? 

A.  It  shows  creative  wisdom  in  our  structure, 
that  this  difficulty  seems  evidently  to  have  been  con- 
templated.   There  are  two  sets  of  muscles  employ- 


128  MECHANISM    OF    THE    MUSCLES. 

ed  lying  one  upon  another,  which  not  only  increase 
the  muscular  power,  but  which  by  sloping  different 
ways,  balance  each  other's  sidelong  tendency. 

T.  This  single  construction  appears  to  me  one 
of  the  most  striking  evidences  of  design  in  the  an- 
imal frame. 

B.  When  the  tendons,  have  occasion  to  make 
a  sudden  bend,  as  those  do  which  come  down  and 
turn  at  the  instep  to  raise  the  foot,  what  is  to 
prevent  them  from  rising  up  whenever  they  shorten 
and  pull  ?  One  would  suppose  the  sinews  would 
spring  off  from  the  top  of  the  foot, — ^which  would 
certainly  be  very  awkward  and  unpleasant. 

T.  What  if  you  should  be  told  there  are  cross 
straps  of  ligament  by  which  they  are  all  confined 
down ;  exactly  as  a  mechanic  would  do  in  a  similar 
case  ?  The  straps  are  just  under  the  skin  and  are 
very  slippery  and  smooth  so  as  so  bind  the  sinews  in 
their  places,  but  allow  them  a  free  motion.  The 
tendons  at  the  wrist  are  bound  down  in  this  manner 
by  a  band  resembling  a  lady's  bracelet,  as  exhibited 
in  this  figure. 


NATURAL    THEOLOGT. 


129 


Fig,    21. 


a,  the  annular  ligament  of  the  wrist,  under  which  pass  the  ten- 
dons of  the  muscles  of  the  fingers. 

B.  What  manifest  design  !  One  finds  that  to  raise 
difficuhies,  is  only  preparing  the  way  for  some  new- 
demonstration  of  wisdom  in  this  wonderful  work  of 
the  Creator. 

T.  Can  you  mention  any  examples  in  the  muscles, 
of  that  species  of  mechanical  contrivance  which  is 
called  the  pulley  1 

A.  Sometimes  the  situation  of  parts  is  such  that 
a  motion  is  wanted,  where  for  some  reasons  it  is  not 


130  MECHANISM    OF    THE    MUSCLES. 

SO  well  to  place  a  muscle,  or  bring  it  to  act  in  the 
usual  way.  For  example.  A  muscle  is  necessary 
to  draw  down  the  lower  jaw,  and  this  is  done  by 
a  muscle  inserted  above  the  jaw.  Nothing  is  more 
common  in  mechanics,  than  pulling  one  way  to  make 
the  object  move  in  the  very  opposite.  But  then  the 
rope  must  pass  through  a  ring  or  pulley.  The  sai- 
lor pulls  down,  and  the  cask  comes  up.  He  has 
a  pulley  above  through  which  his  rope  is  roven.  The 
same  contrivance  is  adopted  in  the  present  instance  ; 
the  muscle  called  the  digastric  muscle,  descends  from 
the  side  of  the  head,  and  passes  through  a  loop  in 
the  neck  below  the  jaw  whence  it  ascends  and  is  at- 
tached to  the  part  to  be  drawn. 

Fig.    22. 


a,  the  digastric  muscle,  which  is  represented  as  coming  down  and 
passing  through  a  slit  or  ring  in  another  muscle  indicated  by 
the  line  b.  After  leaving  the  ring  where  it  is  formed  into  a 
round,  strong  tendon,  it  again  becomes  fleshy,  runs  upward, 
and  is  inserted  into  the  chin  to  draw  the  jaw  down,  c,  ig  a 
bone  called  the  os-hyoideSf  which  seems  to  operate  as  a  stay 
or  brace  ;  the  muscle  containing  the  loop  is  fastened  at  d. 


""  NATURAL   THEOLOGY.  131 

B,  I  know  not  what  contrivance  could  be  more 
plain,  nor  how  any  one  can  look  upon  it,  without  be- 
ing persuaded  of  a  desiging  intelligence. 

T.  We  have  another  example  of  the  same  kind 
in  the  trochlear  muscle  of  the  eye,  from  a  Latin 
word  signifying  a  pulley. 

A»  This  muscle  arises  from  the  bottom  of  the 
orbit  or  socket,  and  then  comes  forward  and  passes 
through  a  loop  on  the  inner  edge  of  the  socket,  in 
advance  of  the  level  of  the  eye,  whence  it  returns 
and  is  fastened  to  the  ball :  of  course,  when  the 
muscle  contracts  it  rolls  the  eye.  It  operates  ex- 
actly in  the  same  manner  as  a  rope  in  a  ship  is  car- 
ried over  a  block  or  round  a  stay,  in  order  to  make  it 
pull  in  the  direction  which  is  wanted ;  or,  as  in  raising 
one  end  of  a  stone  pillar,  the  rope  is  passed  forward 
of  the  object,  and  then  is  reverted  through  a  ring  or 
pulley  as  at  a,  in  the  following  figure,  and  attached 
to  the  weight  to  be  drawn  up. 

Fig.    23. 


132  JIECHANISM   OF    THE    MUSCLES. 

Fig.    24. 


e,  the  trochlear  muscle,  which  arises  at  the  bottom  of  the  socket 
of  the  eye,  and  passes  upward  and  forward  like  the  rope  in 
the  figure  23,  till  it  readies  the  pulley  at  d,  on  the  inner 
edge  of  the  bony  rim  arcnd  the  front  of  the  eye,  where  it  is  , 
turned  backwards,  and  inserted  into  the  top  of  the  ball. 

T.  There  is  quite  as  curious  an  example  in  the 
wing  of  the  bird. 

A.  It  is  necessary  the  weight  of  the  bird  should 
hang  below  the  wings,  so  as  to  balance  the  body- 
in  the  air,  and  prevent  it  from  turning  over  ; — for  the 
weight  of  the  body  under  the  wings  is  the  same  as 
the  ballast  of  a  vessel  under  the  sails.  This  requires 
that  the  muscles  which  constitute  the  principal  part 
of  the  weight,  should  be  disposed  as  much  as  possi- 
ble upon  the  breast,  and  this  principle  we  find  to  be 
observed.  Every  one  who  has  seen  a  fowl  upon  the 
table,  knows  that  upon  the  back,  above  the  wing, 
there  is  only  a  mere  skin.  But  the  question  arises, 
if  the  muscles,  which  are  wanted  to  raise  the  wings, 
ere  situated  beneath  them,  how  are  the  wings  to  be 
elevated  in  the  act  of  flying  ?  As  the  muscle  can 
only  contract  downwards,  how  is  this  to  produce  a 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  133 

rising  motion  ?  The  contrivance  which  a  mechanic 
would  have  employed  is  that  which  is  actually  adopt- 
ed. The  tendon  of  the  muscle  passes  up  from  the 
breast,  above  the  wings,  and  is  there  inflected 
through  a  ring  or^pulley,  and  fastened  to  the  top  of 
the  wing  bone,  and  is  thus  enabled  to  perform  the 
service  required. 

Fig,    25. 


d,  and  c,  the  two  pectoral  or  Irmst  muscles  dissected  and  raised 
from  the  breast  bone  a  :  d,  being  the  larger  muscle  for  draw- 
ing down  the  wing ;  and  c,  the  elevating  muscle.  The  .ten- 
don of  c,  is  represented  above  the  wing  joint  at/,  elevated  by 
a  pin  and  inserted  into  the  wing  bone,  a  short  distance  from 
the  joint. 

B.  How  curious  to  notice  the  exact  resemblance 
in  the  manner  in  which  the  gaff  of  a  vessel  is  drawn 
up  on  which  the  sail  is  spread,  and  that  which  is  here 
employed  in  raising  and  expanding  the  wing  1 

M 


134  MECHANISM     OF    THE    MUSCLES. 

Fig.      26. 


c,  the  gaff  or  rod  upon  which  the  sail  is  suspended,  elevated  by 
a  rope  b,  passing  through  a  pulley  at  a,  above  the  sail,  exactly 
as  in  the  bird's  wing,  and  for  the  same  reason,  viz.  the  ne- 
cessity of  applying  the  power  below  the  part  which  is  to  be. 
raised. 

T.  You  have  mentioned  several  examples  which 
illustrate  applications  of  the  mechanical  powers  in 
the  animal  structure,  which  are  among  the  most  con- 
fessed proofs  of  skill  and  contrivance  in  our  own 
mechanism.  Besides  many  more  that  might  be 
addedj  there  is  one  which  Dr.  Paley  calls,  "that 
most  exquisite  of  all  contrivances,  the  nictitating 
membrane,"  (from  a  Latin  word,  signifying  to  wink,) 
which  is  found  in  the  eyes  of  birds  and  of  many 
quadrupeds. 

A.  The  white  skin  which  we  sometimes  see 
fowls  and  birds  suddenly  twitching  over  their  eye 
balls,  is  this  membrane,  "  and  the  use  is  to  sweep  th« 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY. 


135 


eye,  which  it  does  in  an  instant ;  to  spread  over  it 
the  lachrymal  humor  ;  to  defend  it  also  from  sudden 
injuries  ;  yet  not  totally,  when  drawn  over  the  pupil, 
to  shut  out  the  light.  The  commodiousness  with 
which  it  lies  folded  up  in  one  corner  of  the  eye, 
ready  for  use  and  action,  and  the  quickness  with 
which  it  executes  its  purpose,  are  properties  known 
and  obvious  to  every  observer."  But  what  is  equally 
admirable,  is  the  manner  in  which  it  performs  its 
office.  It  is  an  elastic  substance,  like  Indian  rubber, 
and  when  drawn  out,  returns  of  its  own  accord,  thus 
saving  the  necessity  of  a  muscle  for  this  purpose. 

We  are  next  to  notice  what  the  French  Academi- 
cians call  the  marvellous  mechanism,  by  which  this 
membrane  is  drawn  over  the  eye.  There  is  a  string 
or  tendon  attached  to  the  edge  of  the  curtain,  and 
which  is  connected  with  a  muscle  in  the  back  part  of 
the  eye.  When  the  muscle  exerts  itself,  the  mem- 
brane, by  means  of  the  communicating  thread,  is 
instantly  drawn  over  the  eye  ball.  But  what  is  so 
deservedly  called  marvellous  in  this  construction,  is 
this.  ^^  The  muscle  which  pulls  jthe  membrane,  is 
/passed  through  a  loop  farmed  by  another  muscle ; 
and  is  there  inflecte-d,  as  if  it  were  ^ound  a  pulley. 
This  is  a  peculiarity,  and  observe  the  advantage  of 
it.  A  single  muscle  with  a  straight  tendon,  which  is 
the  common  muscular  form,  would  have  been  suffi- 
cient, if  it  had  the  power  to  draw  far  enough.  But 
the  contraction  necessary  to  draw  the  membrane  over 
the  whole  eye,  required  a  longer  muscle  thain  could 
lie  straight  at  the  bottom  of  the  eye.     Therefore,  in 


136  MECHANISM    OF    THE     MUSCLES. 

order  to  have  a  greater  length  in  a  less  compass,  the 
cord  of  the  main  muscle  makes  an  angle.  This,  so 
far,  answered  the  end  ;  but,  still  further,  it  makes  an 
angle,  not  round  a  fixed  pivot,  but  round  a  loop  form- 
ed by  another  muscle  ;  which  second  muscle,  when- 
ever it  contracts,  of  course  twitches  the  first  muscle 
at  the  point  of  inflection,  and  thereby  assists  the  ac- 
tion designed  by  both ;"  the  main  muscle  and  the 
loop  muscle  act  at  the  same  time,  and  thus  conspire 
in  the  operation  of  drawing  over  the  curtain. 

B.  One  can  hardly  realize  that  this  is  a  descrip- 
tion of  a  natural  structure.  We  acknowledge  a  Cre- 
ator indeed,  and  must  expect  to  discover  the  proofs 
of  a  Creator  in  our  examination  of  his  works  ;  but 
yet  the  devoutest  reception  of  the  truth  hardly  seems 
to  prepare  us  for  observing  without  surprise,  such 
actual  demonstrations  of  skill  as  we  perceive  testify- 
ing to  the  existence,  agency,  and  wisdom  of  the  De- 
ity in  every  object  around  us. 

T.  Does  the  motion  of  the  muscles  and  tendons 
always  depend  upon  our  will  ? 

A.  It  is  happy  they  do  not  in  every  instance. 
The  muscles  immediately  connected  with  life,  or 
which  move  the  vital  organs,  are  independent  of  our 
will.  They  act,  as  far  as  we  can  perceive,  of  their 
own  accord.  We  move  the  hand  by  our  own  choice, 
and  its  motion  is  never  wanted,  but  when  we  are  able 
to  will  it.  But,  as  Paley  says,  "  we  should  have  enough 
to  do,  if  we  had  to  keep  our  hearts  beating,  our  lungs 
in  motion,  and  our  stomachs  at  work.  Did  these 
things  depend  upon  our  attention  they  would  leave  us 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  137 

leisure  for  nothing  else.  We  must  have  been  continually 
\ipon  the  watch  and  continually  in  fear,  nor  would  this 
constitution  have  allowed  of  sleep."  He  might  have 
added,  we  should  hardly  have  performed  these  func- 
tions with  the  exactness  and  regularity  they  demand, 
had  they  been  left  to  our  vigilance  and  care. 

B.  This  explains  why  birds  are  able  to  sleep,  and 
yet  poise  themselves  so  exactly  upon  the  pei'ch  and 
keep  from  falling.  There  is,  I  suppose,  an  involun- 
tary action  of  the  muscles  by  which  they  grasp  the 
branch. 

T.  This  may  be  partly  the  explanation,  but  it  is 
not  the  whole.  There  is  more  mechanical  contri- 
vance for  the  benefit  of  the  bird.  In  trussing  a  fowl, 
upon  bending  the  legs  toward  the  body,  the  cook 
finds  the  claws  close  of  their  own  accord.  Now  this 
is  the  very  position  in  which  the  bird  rests,  while  it 
loosts  upon  its  perch ;  and  in  this  position  it  roosts  in 
safety.  By  simply  crooking  its  limbs  it  produces 
a  contraction  of  the  claws,  which  remain  fast  without 
any  voluntary  effort  as  it  continues  to  sit.  It  is  ow- 
ing to  this, — the  muscle  whiafi  pulls  the  claws  to- 
gether and  which  comes  down  the  leg  for  that  purpose, 
is  carried  round  the  joints  in  such  a  manner  in  its 
way  to  the  toes,  that  it  is  long  enough  to  reach  per- 
fectly the  whole  distance  only  when  the  animal  stands 
upright, — and,  therefore,  in  a^  sitting  posture,  the 
claws  are  necessarily  contracted.  In  this  way  the 
bird  is  enabled  to  roost  in  safety,  even  when  agitated 
by  the  winds. 

m2' 


138  MECHANISM     OF     THE    MUSCLES. 

Fig.    27. 


a,  the  muscle  going  over  the  joint  at  b,  and  passing  behind  the  leg, 
and  around  the  joint  at  c,  and  then  coming  down  behind  the 
foot  at  d,  it  proceeds  to  the  claws  ;  and  the  weight  of  the  bird 
bending  the  joints  h  and  c,  the  muscle  is  bent  at  the  same 
time,  and  the  claws  are  drawn  closely  and  firmly  around  the 
perch. 

B.  It  has  often  appeared  to  me  wonderful  that 
birds  should  be  able  to  rest  so  quietly  upon  a  rocking 
branch,  without  losinf  their  hold  and  falling  off  in 
their  sleep.  I  see  there  is  nothing  overlooked  by 
the  wisdom  of  the  Creator,  and  that  not  even  a  spar- 
row alights  without  him. 

A.  "In  some  animals  which  are  sometimes  obli- 
ged to  stand  for  a  great  length  of  time,  we  find  curi- 
ous contrivances  for  assisting  the  action  of  the  mus- 
cles. Thus,  the  sea  birds,  as  the  heron,  which  wade 
upon  the  shores  of    the  sea  and  in  the  marches  for 


NATURAL    THEOLOGF.  139 

fish  and  reptiles,  their  natural  food,  had  long  excite<i 
the  curiosity  of  naturalists,  by  the  length  of  time  in 
which  they  would  stand  motionless,  expecting  their 
prey.  At  last  it  was  found,  that  in  the  lower  ex- 
tremity of  the  thigh  bone  there  is  a  deep  cavity  into 
which  a  corresponding  projection  in  the  leg  can  be 
shut  at  the  pleasure  of  the  anihial.  .  The  thigh  and 
leg  being  thus  firmly  locked  together,  and  to  all 
intents  and  purposes,  constituting  but  one  piece, 
no  muscular  power  is  necessary  to  keep  them  ex- 
tended." 


ALIMENTARY     ORGANS. 

T.  You  have  attended  to  some  of  the  principal 
manifestations  of  creative  wisdom  exhibited  in  the 
Senses ;  in  the  frame  work  of  the  animal  structure, 
the  bones  ;  and  the  muscles  by  which  they  are  put  in 
motion  :  We  shall  now  notice  the  no  less  striking 
displays  of  design  and  wisdom  which  appear  in  the 
means  provided  to  sustain  the  body,  and  preserve  it  in 
life  and  vigor.  The  alimentary  apparatus,  or  that  for 
nourishing  the  system,  brings  into  view  a  new  class 
of  phenomena.     We  shall  first  describe  the  mouth. 


140  ALIMENTARY    ORGANS. 


THE     MOUTH. 


A.  *'In  comparing  the  different  animals,"  says 
Dr.  Paley,  "  I  know  no  part  of  their  structure  which 
exhibits  greater  variety,  or  in  that  variety  a  nicer  ac- 
commodation to  their  respective  convenience,  than  that 
which  is  seen  in  the  different  formation  of  their  mouths. 
Whether  the  purpose  be  the  reception  of  ahment  mere- 
ly, or  the  catching  of  prey,  the  picking'up  of  seeds,  the 
cropping  of  herbage,  the  extraction  of  juices,  the  suc- 
tion of  liquids,  the  breaking  and  grinding  of  food  the 
taste  of  that  food,  together  with  the  respiration  of  air, 
and  in  conjunction  with  the  utterance  of  sound  ;  these 
various  offices  are  assigned  to  this  one  part,  and  in 
different  species,  provided  for,  as  they  are  wanted  by 
its  different  constitution.  In  the  human  species,  for- 
asmuch as  there  are  hands  to  convey  the  food  to  the 
mouth,  the  mouth  is  flat,  and  by  reason  of  its  flatness 
fitted  only  for  reception.  Whereas  the  projecting 
jaws,  &;c.  of  the  dog  and  his  affinities,  enable  them 
to  apply  their  mouths  to  snatch  and  seize  the  object 
of  their    pursuit. 

The  full  hps,  the  rough  tongue,  the  corrugated  cartil- 
aginous palate,  the  points  and  ridges  in  the  roof  of  the 
mouth,  directed  backwards,  which  assist  grazing  ani- 
mals in  swallowing  their  food,  the  broad  cutting  teeth 
of  t^e  ox,  the  deer,  the  horse  and  the  sheep,  qualify 
this  tribe  for  browsing  uipon  their  pasture.  The  retiring 
under  jav/  of  the  swine  vjorJcs  in  the  grounds,  after 
the  protruding  snout,  like  a   prong  or   ploughshare, 


NATURAL    THEOLOGr.  141 

has  made  its  way  to  the  roots  upon  which  it  feeds. 
A  conformation,  so  happy,  was  not  the  gift  of  chance. 

In  birds  this  organ  assumes  a  new  character  ;  new, 
both  in  substance  and  in  form,  but  in  both,  wonder- 
fully adapted  to  the  wants  and  uses  of  a  distinct 
mode  of  existence.  The  sharp  edge  and  tempered 
point  of  the  sparrow^ s  bill,  picks  almost  every  kind  of 
seed  from  its  concealment  in  the  plant  ;  and  not  only 
so,  but  hulls  the  grain,  breaks  and  shatters  the  coats 
of  the  seed,  in  order  to  get  at  the  kernel.  The  hook- 
ed hesk  of  the  hawk  tribe,  separates  the  flesh  from 
the  bones  of  the  animals  which  it  feeds  upon,  almost 
with  the  clearness  and  precision  of  a  dissector's 
knife. 

Every  thing  about  the  animal  mouth  is  mechanical. 
The  teeth  of  lobsters,  work  one  against  another,  like 
.lie  sides  of  a  pair  of  shears.  In  many  insects,  the 
mouth  is  converted  into  a  pump  or  sucker,  fitted  at 
the  end,  sometimes  with  pincers  ;  by  which  double 
provision,  viz.  of  the  tube  and  the  penetrating  form 
of  the  point,  the  insect  first  bores  the  necessary  open- 
ing and  then  extracts  the  juices.  And,  what  is  most 
extraordinary  of  all,  one  sort  of  mouth,  as  the  occa- 
sion requires,  shall  be  changed  into  another.  The 
caterpillar  could  not  live  without  teeth  ;  in  several 
species,  the  butterfly  formed  from  it,  could  not  use 
them.  The  old  teeth  therefore,  are  cast  off",  and  a 
new  and  totally  different  apparatus  assumes  their  place 
in  the  fly.  Thus,  through  the  whole  animal  kingdom, 
the  form  of  the  mouth  or  the  appendages  attached  to 
it,  are  kindly  adaptedto  the  necessities  of  the  creature, 


142  ALIMENTARY    ORGANS. 

It  is  said  that  quadrupeds,  apes  not  excepted,  have 
fewer  muscles  in  the  lips  than  are  met  with  in  the  hu- 
man species  ;  of  course,  they  have  less  variety  in  the 
motions  of  the  mouth,  which  is  probably  one  reason 
they  are  not  capable  of  imitating  the  human  voice,  or 
of  uttering  articulate  sounds ;  and  adds  another  item 
to  the  innumerable  proofs  that  nature  has  placed  an 
original  barrier  between  ourselves  and  every  being 
she  has  placed  around  us  in  the  animal  world. 

T.  Among  all  the  parts  and  powers  which  belong 
to  this  curious  structure,  none  are  perhaps  more  re- 
markable, or  more  plainly  evince  contrivance  and  de- 
sign, than  the  instruments  provided  for  breaking  and 
bruising  the  aliment,  viz.  the  teeth. 

THE     TEETH. 

A.  They  form  the  same  proofs  of  purpose  and 
intention,  as  a  knife  for  cutting,  or  a  mill  for  grinding. 
No  other  bone  in  the  body  has  any  tendency  to  shoot 
out  little  pegs,  except  the  very  two,  where  it 
would  be  difficult  to  dispense  with  th&m.  We  per- 
ceive design,  and  that  is  all  ;  for  it  is  no  explanation 
to  say  there  is  a  pulp  within  the  sockets,  which  forms 
and  makes  these  teeth.  The  pulp  is  a  part  of  the 
provision,  and  the  question  still  recurs,  how  came 
it  in  the  jaws  alone  ?  As  the  teeth  do  not  admit,  like 
our  other  bones,  of  being  covered  with  flesh  to  pre- 
serve them  from  the  air,  to  which  no  bone  in  the 
body  would  bear  to  be  exposed,  they  are  plaited 
over  with  a  glassy  substance,  called  enamel,  which 
gives  them  also  another  advantage,  that  of  superior 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  143 

hardness.  Tliey  consists  of  a  proper  mixture  of 
cutters  and  grinders  suited  to  our  food,  and  the  due 
preparation  of  it  for  the  stomach.  The  jaws  are  so 
constri^cted,  and  the  teeth  so  situated  in  them,  that 
when  either  cutters  or  grinders  are  engaged,  and  both 
are  not  usually  wanted  at  once,  the  others  are  not 
permitted  to  touch,  or  to  wear  upon  one  another. 
Again,  the  teeth  do  not  commonly  make  their  ap- 
pearance in  the  mouth  during  the  period  of  infancy, 
when  they  would  be  worse  than  useless.  Lastly,  as 
the  teeth  are  needed  before  the  jaws  have  attained 
their  full  size,  there  is  provision  for  a  second,  or  sup- 
pletory  set  when  the  bones  of  the  jaws  have  grown 
so  large,  that  it  would  be  impossible  the  first  should 
sit  compact  and  occupy  the  whole  extent  of  the 
gums. 

Another  thing  observable  in  the  teeth  is,  they  are 
shed  in  succession,  so  as  not  to  leave  an  interval  in 
which  we  are  without  a  sufficient  number. — The 
elephant  sheds  his  teeth,  but  not,  it  is  said,  in  our 
manner.  An  account  given  of  this  matter  is  very 
curious,  that  having  never  more  than  eight  grinders, 
often  no  more  than  four,  an  upper  and  under  on  each 
side,  the  shedding  of  one  of  w^hich  would  of  course 
leave  a  side  of  his  mouth  very  much  disabled  for 
masticating  his  food,  his  second  teeth,  or  rather  the 
succeeding  parts  of  the  same  tooth,  always  come  up 
behind  the  first,  and  the  one  continues  to  serve  till 
the  others  are  ready  to  take  their  places. 

The  wisdom  of  Providence  appears  in  adapting 
the  teeth  of  different  animals  to  the  nature  of  their 
stomachs.     It  is  one  of  the  most  striking  instances  of 


144 


ALIMENTARY    ORGANS. 


that  wonderful  design  we  discover  in  the  animal 
system.  If  the  nature  of  the  stomach  be  such  as  is 
the  case  in  cats,  tigers,  lions,  he.  that  it  will  only- 
digest  animal  food — the  teeth  are  particularly  fitted 
for  tearing  and  separating  flesh.  On  the  contrary,  if 
the  nature  of  the  digestive  organs  be  such  as  to  re- 
quire vegetable  food,  as  in  the  horse,  ox,  and  many 
others,  the  teeth  are  flat,  rough  and  of  large  surface 
resembling  a  millstone,  and  fitted  only  for  grinding. 
The  grinder  of  a  horse  or  an  ox,  is  a  mechanical  curi- 
osity. There  are  ridges  of  the  hardest  enamel  which 
rise  up  above  the  surface  and  run  down  to  a  consid- 
erable depth.  These  ridges  are  filled  in  between  with 
a  somewhat  softer  substance  resembhng  marble  ;  the 
consequence  of  which  is,  that  the  spaces  v)ear  away 
easier  than  the  ridges,  and  thus  the  tooth  is  kept 
always  rough  and  fit  for  the  operation  of  breaking  and 
grinding  the  vegetable  substances  upon  which  the  an- 
imal lives. 


Fig.  28. 


A  GriiideT,  or  one  of  the  Molares  of  a  horse,  (from  a  Latin  word 
signifying  a  mill  stone)  ;  a.  the  enamel  forming  a  raised 
edge  around  the  tooth  :  the  white  lines  in  the  middle  repre- 
senting the  plates  of  enamel  in  the  interior  of  the  tooth, 
h.  the  earthy  part  interposed,  which,  by  wearing  away  more 
easily,  leaves  the  ridges  of  enamel  projecting  above. 


NATUBAL    THEOLOGY.  145 

B.  How  perfectly  is  the  object  accomplished  by 
this  admirable  contrivance  [  A  millwright  would  be 
puzzled  to  say  how  two  surfaces  could  be  made  to 
grind  continually  upon  one  another  without  requiring 
to  be  picJced  ;  always  wearing  away — and  yet  for 
years  preserving  nearly  the  same  projecting  elevation 
upon  the  surface.  We  here  see  the  solution  of  this 
mechanical  problem. 

A.  Another  remarkable  structure  appears  in  the 
other  teethj  viz.  the  cutting  teeth,  for  the  bene- 
fit of  certain  animals.  It  is  seen  in  the  gnawing 
animals,  such  as  the  squirrel,  mouse,  ratj  &:c.  As 
these  animals  have  occasion  for  sharp  front  teeth, 
there  is,  first,  a  curious  provision  for  this  purpose. 
The  enamel  is  only  upon  the  forward  part  of  their 
gnawing  teeth.  The  back  part  is  of  a  softer  kind  of 
bone.  The  effect  is,  that  the  back  naturally  wears 
down  and  leaves  the  enamel  in  the  form  of  a  sharp 
edge.  The  front  teeth  of  these  animals  resemble  a 
bevelled  tool,  or  a  chisel,  and  it  is  owing  to  this  happy 
construction.  But  they  must  necessarily  wear  away 
very  fast,  and  wonderful  as  it  may  seem,  it  is  said 
they  run  back  nearly  the  whole  length  of  the  jaw, 
under  the  roots  of  the  other  teeth,  in  sockets  pro- 
vided for  that  purpose,  from  which  they  shoot  up,  as 
the  edges  wear  down.  It  is  exactly  the  same  con- 
trivance as  the  pencil  cases  in  which  the  pencil  is 
made  to  screw  out,  as  the  pencil  is  cut  away. 

B.  What  inexhaustible  varieties  of  creative  kind- 
ness and  skill  1  I  suppose,  if  it  were  not  the  nature 

N 


146  ALIMENTARY    ORGANS. 

of  these  animals  to  gnaw  upon  hard  substances,  this 
singular  growth  of  their  teeth  would  prove  an  un- 
comfortable provision. 

T.  There  is  but  little  danger,  with  their  existing 
habits  and  propensities,  of  their  neglecting  this  pre- 
caution ;  but  it  is  said,  that,  if  fed  only  upon  soft 
substances,  their  teeth  will  grow  so  as  to  penetrate 
the  head  and  destroy  the  life  of  the  animal.  Before 
dismissing  the  subject,  there  is  another  consummate 
evidence  of  design,  viz.  the  wonderful  relation  be- 
tween the   different  parts  of  the  mouth. 

A.  The  form  of  the  teeth  and  the  motions  of  the 
jaws  in  all  animals  always  correspond.  The  mouths 
of  the  cat,  wolf,  dog  and  those  animals  which  have 
teeth  and  digestive  organs  suited  only  for  flesh  which 
requires  to  be  divided  by  an  upward  and  downward 
motion,  have  the  jaw  constructed  in  such  a  manner  as 
not  to  admit  of  any  lateral  or  side  way  action,  such  as 
we  notice  in  sheep,  oxen,  and  the  like,  and  which 
would  have  been  useless  to  flesh  eating  animals.  This 
could  not  be  chance. — For  what  but  design  could 
have  effected  such  harmony  of  construction  between 
parts  so  entirely  different  as  the  stomach,  the  teeth, 
and  the  joints  by  which  the  mouth  is  opened  and 
closed.  The  animal  structure  is  full, — is  made  up  of 
such  relations.  So  completely  is  it  carried  through  ev- 
ery part ;  every  part  is  so  fitted  to  connected  parts  ; 
and  that  without  the  least  natural  tendency  that  we 
can  see, — for  what  particular  tendency  can  a  jaw  with- 
out grinding  teeth  have  to  unite  itself  to  the  head  by 
a  joint  incapable  of  grinding, — this  correspondency 


NATURAL      THEOLOGY.  147 

is  SO  perfect,  that  from  one  single  bone,  or  fragment 
of  a  bone,  the  naturalist  tells  us  the  shape,  motions, 
arid  habits   of  the  animal. 

T.      The  -next  remarkable    example  under    this 
head  is  the  structure  of  the  throat. 

THE    THROAT. 

A.  The  throat  is  the  channel  for  conveying  the 
food  from  the  mouth  to  another  set  of  apparatus, 
where  the  process  of  converting  it  into  nourishment  is 
to  be  completed.  It  might  seem  a  simple  provision 
to  furnish  a  tube '  from  the  mouth  to  the  stomach. 
But  there  are  difficulties  which  afford  new  occasion 
to  admire  the  consummate  skill  which  has  contrived 
every  part  of  our  frame.  In  the  first  place,  we  must 
be  able  to  swallow  with  ease. 

B.  I  do  not  see  any  occasion  for  much  contri- 
vance to  enable  the  food  to  di'ojt  down  the  throat. 
One  would  naturally  suppose  that  it  would  fall  of  its 
own  accord. 

A.  I  dare  say  you  have  heard  of  some  exceptions, 
however,  and  the  failure  of  one  instance,  might  pro- 
duce the  most  serious  consequences.  Many  articles 
of  food,  are  of  a  light  and  spongy  nature,  and  if  taken 
in  great  quantities,  would  not  be  liable  to  effect  their 
descent  by  their  own  weight.  But  the  still  stronger 
case  is  that  of  the  animals  whose  swallowing  is  not 
a  descending,  but  an  ascending  operation.  The  con- 
trivance is  the  most  mechanical  possible.  There  are 
muscular  fibres  or  strings  in  the  lining  of  the  throat, 


148  ALIMENTARY    ORGANS. 

which  run  round  the  passage,  and  which,  by  drawing 
the  throat  together  above  the  food,  as  the  food  pro- 
ceeds, force  it  along  in  its  descent.  In  the  horse,  ox, 
&,c.  which  have  to  swallow  in  a  direction  contrary 
to  the  weight  of  the  food,  there  is  a  double  set  of 
these  forcing  muscles,  which  cross  one  another  around 
the  throat,  and  act  with  a  much  greater  power. 

B.  I  have  often  wondered  that  these  animals 
should  be  able  to  raise  their  drink  and  food  with 
such  perfect  ease  into  their  long  necks.  The  most 
familiar  circumstances,  I  perceive,  furnish  occasion 
to  admit  the  skill  and  kindness  of  that  Creator,  who 
giveth  to  the  beast  his  food,  and  whose  tender  mer- 
cies are  over  all  his  works. 

T.  But  this  is  only  a  small  part  of  the  contrivance 
necessary  in  furnishing  us  with  a  throat. 

A.  The  lungs  open  into  the  throat.  The  open- 
ing is  called  the  glottis,  and  is  situated  in  the  upper 
part  of  the  throat,  just  below  the  palate.  It  is  ne- 
cessary for  breathing  ;  but  still — a  dangerous  opening 
we  perceive,  from  a  place  where  a  crumb  of  bread 
might  be  fatal,  into  the  great  channel  through  which 
all  our  food  has  to  descend.  But  the  foresight  was 
equal  to  the  peril.  It  is  wonderful  to  notice  how  the 
danger  has  been  avoided.  The  opening  is  covered 
with  a  small  valve,  or  clapper,  opening  upwards,  an- 
atomist call  it  the  epiglottis,  which  plays  over  the 
entrance,  and  which  the  food  closes  before  it  in  its 
descent.  Nor  is  this  the  whole  of  this  beautiful 
contrivance.  The  glottis  itself  is  so  constructed, 
that  it  draws  together,  whenever  any  particle  of  liqui  d 


NATURAL     THEOLOGY.  149 

or  solid  substance  attempts  to  enter  it.  Besides  both 
these  provisions,  the  passage  into  the  lungs  is  made 
so  sensitive  to  the  least  touch  of  any  liquid  or  solid 
substance,  even  a  drop  of  water,  as  to  produce 
a  convulsion  or  cough  instantaneously,  when  a  parti- 
cle of  food  or  drink  attempts  to  go  the  wrong  way, 
as  it  is  called, — and  forces  it  back  with  violence. 
The  membrane  which  lines  the  passage  from  the 
glottis  into  the  lungs,  anatomists  term  it  the  tra- 
chea, "is  perhaps  the  most  sensible  and  irritable  mem- 
brane of  the  whole  body.  It  rejects  the  touch  of  a 
crumb  of  bread,  br  a  drop  of  water,  with  a  spasm  which 
convulses  the  whole  frame  ;  yet,  left  to  itself  and  its 
proper  office,  the  reception  of  air  alone,  nothing  can 
be  so  quiet.  It  does  not  even  make  itself  felt ;  a  man 
does  not  know  that  he  has  a  trachea.  The  capacity 
of  perceiving  with  such  acuteness — this  impatience 
of  offence,  yet  perfect  rest  and  ease,  when  let  alone — 
are  properties  one  would  have  thought  not  likely  to 
reside  in  the  same  subject.  It  is  to  the  junction, 
however,  of  these  almost  inconsistent  qualities,  in 
this  as  well  as  in  some  other  delicate  parts  of  the 
body,  that  we  owe  our  safety  and  our  comfort;  our 
safety  to  their  sensibility,  our  comfort,  to  their  re- 
pose." What  artist  would  venture  upon  so  exquisite 
a  piece  of  mechanism,  as  that  of  a  valve  which 
should  be  always  opening,  under  a  current  of  water, 
and  which  should  never  suffer  a  particle  of  the  water 
to  enter  the  vessel !  "  Reflect  how  frequently  we  swal- 
low, how  constantly  we  breathe.  In  a  city  feast,  for 
N  2 


150  ALIMENTARY    ORGANS. 

example,  what  deglutition,  what  anhelation,  yet  does 
this  little  cartilage,  the  epiglottis,  so  effectually  inter- 
pose its  office,  so  securely  guard  the  entrance  of  the 
wind  pipe,  that  whilst  morsel  after  morsel,  draught  after 
draught,  are  coursing  one  another  over  it,  an  accident 
of  a  crumb,  or  a  drop  slipping  into  this  passage  (which 
nevertheless  must  be  opened  for  the  breath  every  se- 
cond of  time)  excites,  in  the  whole  company,  not 
only  alarm  by  its  danger,  but  surprise  by  its  novel- 
ty.    Not  two  guests  are  choked  in  a  century." 

B.  This  is  the  more  wonderful,  because  the  pas- 
sage into  the  lungs  is  often  continued  •open  for  an  un- 
usual length  of  time,  as  in  the  act  of  gaping.  This 
must  add  to  the  danger,  if  we  should  happen  to  be 
swallowing  at  the  same  time. 

A.  It  is  said  this  danger  is  not  permitted,  for 
that  the  muscles  employed  in  swallowing  are  so  cu- 
riously connected  with  those  necessary  to  produce 
a  wide  extension  of  the  mouth,  that  the  two  acts 
cannot  be  performed  together. 

T.  In  passing  in  this  manner  from  example  to 
example  of  creative  goodness  and  skill,  I  feel  con- 
stantly, my  young  friends,  the  necessity  of  reminding 
you  that  the  proofs  of  an  intelligent  and  designing 
beneficence  are  not  confined  to  selected  cases.  In 
taking  a  cursory  survey,  we  notice  those  instances 
which  may  be  most  easily  explained.  But  I  trust 
you  will  be  sensible  that  an  equal  wisdom  pervades 
the  whole  system  of  Creation ;  and  that  seeing  par- 
ticular demonstrations  will  tend  to  confirm  this  devout 
conviction  in  your  minds. 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  151 

B,  I  presume  a  benevolent  providence  appears  in 
adapting  the  structure  of  the  throat  to  the  wants  of 
different  animals. 

T.  Yes,  there  are  many  instances  in  which  there 
seems  to  be  an  extraordinary  organization  of  this 
part  of  animals  to  answer  particular  purposes. 
Among  the  most  curious  is  that  of  the  sea  turtle. 
I  hardly  know  an  instance  in  which  the  care  of  the 
Creator  is  more  distinctly  seen  than  in  the  novel  pro- 
vision made  for  this  animal.  The  whole  cavity  of 
the  throat  is  hung  round  with  a  great  number  of  little 
pendants  resembling  in  form  the  bobbins  employed  in 
making  lace  ;  the  lower  extremities  of  which  are  fur- 
nished with  a  sharp  point,  so  that  they  prevent  the 
ascent  of  any  thing  solid,  while  they  permit  a  free 
passage  to  liquids.  This  singular  structure  is  mar- 
vellously contrived  for  the  particular  wants  of  thi^ 
animal.  As  in  their  mode  of  swallowing,  they  often 
admit  great  quantities  of  water  into  their  mouths, 
this  provision  enables  them  to  regurgitate,  or  throw 
back,  the  superfluous  liquid,  without  permitting  the 
fishes  and  other  marine  substances  on  which  they  live 
to  escape  with  it.  ' 

HUMAN    VOICE 

A.  The  HUMAN  VOICE  has  been  pronounced  by 
a  devout  writer,  "  the  greatest  masterpiece  of  the 
Creator. ^^ 

It  is  by  the  air  passing  from  the  lungs  through  the 
little    orifice  termed  the  glottis,  that  the  voice   is 


152  THE    VOICE. 

formed.  In  all  other  wind  instruments  it  is  necessary 
to  have  different  pipes  or  orifices  to  produce  different 
notes.  But  the  wonder  of  the  mechanism  of  the  glottis 
is,  that,  from  one  and  the  same  aperture,  arise  all  the 
various  modulations  of  which  the  human  voice  is  ca- 
pable. 

The  power  of  voice  and  language  is  not  however, 
confined  to  the  human  species.  A  kind  Providence 
has  bestowed  this  means  of  communication  upon  oth- 
er animals,  so  far  as  is  necessary  for  them — and  every 
one  must  be  sensible  they  would  labor  under  great 
privations,  if  they  were  incapable  of  some  language 
to  make  known  their  wants,  which  they  could  not 
do  in  a  variety  of  cases,  as  at  remote  distances,  or 
in  the  dark,  without  the  assistance  of  sound. 

"  Observe  the  different  cries  of  the  cock,^'  says 
a  lively  German  writer,  "  either  when  a  dog,  or 
a  stranger  enters  the  yard,  or  when  a  hawk,  or  some 
similar  bird  of  prey,  presents  itself,  or  when  he  calls 
to  or  answers  his  mates.  What  mean  those  lamen- 
table cries  of  the  turkey  1  Behold  her  chicks,  all  on 
a  sudden  concealing  themselves,  and  lying  so  quiet, 
that  one  would  think  they  were  dead.  The  mother 
looks  upwards,  and  her  anxiety  is  increased  ;  but  what 
does  she  see  ?  a  black  point  scarcely  distinguishable, 
but  which  proves  to  be  a  bird  of  prey,  which  could 
not  escape  her  vigilance.  The  bird  of  prey  disap- 
pears, and  the  hen  sets  up  a  cry  of  joy.  The  language 
of  the  dog  is  so  copious,  various,  and  expressive,  that 
it  would  be  almost  sufficient  to  fill  a  dictionary. 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  .       153 

Here  again  we  may  admire  the  wisdom  and  good- 
ness of  the  Supreme  Being.  What  kind  attention  has 
he  shewn  toward  animals,  in  giving  them  the  power 
to  express  by  sounds  their  wants  and  feelings.  From 
their  organization,  and  the  nature  of  their  minds  it 
was  impossible  they  should  speak  the  language  of 
man  ;  but  they  would  have  been  much  to  be  pitied, 
and  less  useful  to  us,  had  the  Creator  entirely  deprived 
them  of  the  power  of  making  themselves  understood. 
God  has  given  them  proper  organs  to  produce  and 
vary  a  certain  number  of  sounds  ;  and  such  is  their 
make,  that  each  has  particular  and  distinct  sounds, 
by  which  they  make  themselves  understood.  In  short, 
the  Creator  has  given  such  force  to  the  language  of 
animals,  as  their  nature  would  admit  of,  and  all  that 
was  necessary  in  order  for  them  to  answer  the' end  for 
which  they  were  designed. 

T.     You  say,  the  language  of  animals. 

A.  The  voice  of  animals  is  not,  strictly  speaking, 
the  same  with  language.  By  language  is  properly 
understood  articulate  sounds  expressive  of  definite 
ideas,  not  natural,  but  acquired.  This  is  the  prerog- 
ative of  man  ;  though  man  at  the  same  time  partici- 
pates with  all  other  animals  in  being  capable  of  express- 
ing his  wants  and  passions  by  natural  and  inarticulate 
cries.  Here  again  we  discover  the  wisdom  and  good- 
ness of  the  Creator.  The  infant  is  enabled  to  make 
known  its  wants,  and  the  mother  to  express  her  affec- 
tion by  this  gift  of  na!ure,  long  before  any  power  of 
communication  has  been  formed  by  articulate  lan- 
guage.    Herder  terms  the  natural  voice  the  speech 


154  .THE    VOICE. 

of  the  father  and  mother,  the  child  and  friend ;  and 
beautifully  suggests  that  it  forms  a  necessary  means 
of  cultivation  in  the  first  stages  of  life.  It  establishes 
an  intercourse  between  the  parent  and  offspring, 
when  no  other  could  be  made.  Its  utility  to  us  on  a 
variety  of  occasions  opens  a  wide  field  for  acknowl- 
edging the  kind  purposes  of  Providence  in  endowing 
us  with  this  faculty.  A  child  sinking  in  the  water  or 
attacked  by  a  furious  animal  is  not  left  to  depend  up- 
on such  assistance  as  he  may  be  able  to  command  by 
being  sufficiently  near  and  sufficiently  collected  to  dis- 
cribe  his  danger.  God  has  given  a  voice  to  fear  more 
prompt  and  effectual  than  language.  It  is  observ- 
able that  he  has  imparted  to  distress  much  more  pow- 
er in  this  respect  than  to  any  other  class  of  our  emo- 
tions. We  rush  mechanically  to  the  cry  of  pain  and 
terror.  He  has  given  a  language  to  misery  to  which 
every  bosom  responds  ;  and  we  see  the  beneficence 
of  this  distinction.  It  shews  the  evident  purpose  of 
a  kind  Creator.  The  misery  of  others  requires  our 
attention,  but  their  happiness  does  not. 

T.  It  seems  unnecessary  to  ask  what  demonstrations 
of  design  are  discoverable  in  any  other  part  of  the 
living  economy,  after  all  we  have  perceived  of  the 
Creator's  wisdom  and  beneficence  in  those  which 
have  been  noticed.  But  we  will  take  a  cursory  view 
of  some  of  the  principal  which  remain.  Next  to  th  e 
wonderful  mechanism  of  the  parts  you  have  described, 
is  the  great  chemical  laboratory,  or  the  chief  alimen- 
tary organ  of  the  system,  the  stomach. 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  155 

THE    STOMACH. 

A.  The  stomach  is  the  organ  in  which  the  ahment 
is  finally  received,  and  where  it  waits  to  undergo  a 
great  chemical  action,  which  consists  in  converting  it 
into  a  pulpy  substance,  preparatory  to  its  distribution 
to  every  part  of  the  body.  What  may  be  first  notic- 
ed, in  view  of  wisdom  and  design,  is  the  form  and 
situation  of  this  curious  organ.  It  is  placed  in  the 
centre  of  the  cavity  of  the  body,  with  its  length  across 
the  body,  and  curving  down  in  the  middle,  thus  en- 
abling it  the  better  to  receive  and  hold  its  contents. 

Fig,    29. 


In  this  plate  of  the  stomach,  it  will  be  seen  that  the  delivering  ori- 
fice is  situated  in  the  most  favorable  manner  for  the  purposes 
of  the  organ.  Had  it  been  placed  below,  nothing  could  have 
been  retained. 

T.  Are  there  any  remarlcahle  varieties  of  the 
stomachs  in  different  animals  ? 

A.  In  some  animals  which  are  destitute  of  teeth, 
this  organ  possesses  the  power  of  a  mill,  to  perform 
the   operation   of- bruising   and   grinding  their  food. 


156 


DIGESTION. 


This  is  the  case  with  fowls  and  birds. — The  giz- 
zard is,  in  effect,  their  stomach ;  and  in  some  birds  it 
is  capable  of  grinding  the  hardest  substances,  with 
the  assistance  of  a  liquor  nature  has  provided  in  it. 
The  gravel,  which  makes  a  part  of  their  food,  is  to 
assist  the  operation  of  this  mill. 

B.  This  explains  the  marvellous  stories  related  of 
the  ostrich. — There  was  an  account  not  long  since,  of 
one  whose  stomach  was  found  quite  full,  among  other 
articles,  of  such  indigestible  materials  as  old  nails, 
glass,  and  brass  buttons,  which  were  partly  worn 
away  by  the  friction  of  the  organ. 

A.  The  camel,  to  enable  it  to  traverse  the  sandy 
desarts  of  the  countries  in  which  it  lives,  is  kindly 
furnished  with  an  extraordinary  kind  of  stomach, 
which  answers  among  other  purposes  that  of  a  water 
vessel,  in  which  it  can  carry  its  drink.  There  are 
several  little  muscular  cisterns  attached  to  the  stom- 
ach of  the  animal,  which  are  kept  separate,  and  which 
it  fills  from  time  to  time  as  opportunities  serve.  The 
main  stomach  has,  (principally  on  one  side,)  rows 
of  purses  or  cells,  side  by  side,  with  their  mouths 
upwards,  in  length  from  six  to  nine  inches,  which 
are  capable  of  admitting  one's  hand,  and  of  holding 
from  one  pint  to  a  quart  of  water  or  more.  These 
purses  or  cells  are  numerous,  and  capable  of  holding 
when  much  distended,  nearly  thirty  gallons  of  water. 
When  the  creature  is  thirsty  the  stomach  contracts, 
and  the  water  flows  over  the  tops  of  the  cells  into  the 
main  stomach,  to  moisten  the  dry  food,  and  help  di- 
gestion.    The  greater  the  quantity  of  food  there  is  in 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  157 

the  Stomach,  (of  course  the  lateral  pressure  on  the  cells 
will  be  greater,)  the  more  water  will  be  forced  from 
the  purses  or  cells,  and  more  is  required  to  moisten 
the  quantity  of  dry  food.  The  mouths  of  the  cells  are 
too  sensible  of  excitement,  to  admit  any  coarser  nu- 
triment than  water.  The  fodder  is  never  found  in 
the  cells  unless  the  animal  has  been  much  tumbled 
after  death,  which  readily  accounts  for  the  possibility 
of  taking  pure  water  from  the  stomach  of  the  camel 
thirty  days  after  the  water  is  taken  in.  Their  food 
once  masticated  and  swallowed,  is  returned  to  the 
mouth,  and  there  broken  finer  ;  its  weight  being  in- 
creased by  diminution  of  bulk,  it  easily  passes  by  the 
coarser  and  lighter  food  into  the  stomach,  and  is 
pressed  into  the  intestine  for  further  digestion. 

The  ox  is  a  still  more  curious  instance  of  the  di- 
versity which  Providence  has  kindly  introduced  in 
the  structure  of  the  stomach.  This  animal,  and  seve- 
ral other  species  of  quadrupeds,  have  four  stomachs, 
and  are  enabled  in  consequence  to  perform  the  singular 
process  of  rumination,  or,  as  it  is  called,  chewing  the 
cud.  It  consists  in  repeating  their  mastication  at  a 
considerable  interval  after  eating.  These  animals  are 
deficient  in  upper  front  teeth ;,  this  circumstance,  to- 
gether with  that  of  the  peculiar  toughness  of  the  fib- 
rous substances  on  which  they  live,  and  the  great 
quantity  they  have  to  gather  of  such  light  and  un- 
nutritious  food,  render  it  a  most  happy  provision  by 
which  the  goodness  of  Providence  has  distinguished 
them,  that  they  are  able  to  collect  their  nourishment, 
o 


158  DIGESTION. 

and  afterwards  finish  the  process  of  mastication  at 
their  convenience.  It  is  received  in  the  coarse  state 
into  the  first  stomach — and,  after  being  masticated 
anew,  passes  successively  into  the  others.  The  little 
pellets  we  see  them  throwing  up  into  their  mouths 
every  few  minutes,  when  they  are  lying  down,  are 
the  forage  they  are  quietly  and  leisurly  taking  up  from 
the  receptacle  which  they  had  been  employed  in  re- 
plenishing. 

T.  Among  all  the  curiosities  of  this  organ,  how- 
ever, you  have  said  nothing  of  the  wonderful  agent 
by  which,  principally,  our  food  is  digested. 

A.  The  food  is  converted  into  a  soft  pulpy  sub- 
stance, chiefly  by  means  of  a  chemical  liquor  called 
the  gastric  juice,  which  is  continually  secreted  from 
the  inner  membrane  of  the  stomach.  It  dissolves  the 
contents  of  the  stomach  with  astonishing  rapidity. 
Soft  and  hard,  flesh  and  vegetables,  equally  yield. 
The  most  solid  bones  cannot  withstand  its  action. 

J?.  I  cannot  conceive  how  it  can  be  safe  to  have 
a  liquid  in  our  stomach,  which  is  so  very  powerful  as 
to  dissolve  bones  and  flesh  ;  for  the  stomach  itself  \s 
flesh,  and  one  would  think  it  would  dissolve  this  also. 

A.  So  any  one  would  naturally  imagine.  We 
only  know  it  will  act  upon  dead,  but  not  upon  living 
flesh.  Why  this  distinction — what  produces  it — ^is 
yet  a  secret.  No  chemist  would  think  of  pouring  a 
liquid  upon  his  hand,  sufficiently  powerful  to  dissolve 
a  bone  in  the  course  of  a  few  hours,  without  expect- 
ing his  flesh  would  be  instantly  consumed.  Within  all 
the  compass  of  his  art,  he  knows  of  no  chemical  sub- 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  159 

Stance  with  which  it  could  be  done  in  safety.  He  has 
no  acquaintance  with  any  such  agent,  that  alone  ex- 
cepted which  is  found  in  the  living  animal. 

B.  What  a  succession  of  wise  and  benevolent 
provisions !  It  is  well  we  have  adopted  some  me- 
thodical view  of  the  animal  structure ;  for  otherwise 
it  would  have  been  impossible  to  have  remembered  a 
hundredth  part  of  all  these  wonderful  facts.  So  many 
were  unknown  to  me,  that  I  am  sure  I  shall  always  in 
future  entertain  a  stronger  sense  of  the  power  in  which 
we  live^  and  move,  and  have  our  being. 

T.  You  may  deem  it  an  inestimable  acquisition, 
if,  by  the  attention  you  have  given  to  this  subject, 
you  are  impressed  with  but  one  additional  evidence  of 
the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  our  adorable  Creator. 
Any  study  that  should  have  this  effect — to  cultivate 
a  single  conviction  of  his  agency — is  surely  the  no- 
blest to  which  our  minds  can  be  directed.  "  In  ex- 
plaining these  things,"  says  an  ancient  Greek  physi- 
cian, "  I  esteem  myself  as  composing  a  solemn  hymn 
to  the  great  Architect  of  our  bodily  frame  ;  in  which, 
I  think,  there  is  more  true  piety,  than  in  sacrificing 
hecatombs  of  oxen,  or  in  burning  the  most  costly  per- 
fumes." 

But  to  finish  our  survey  of  the  apparatus  which  re- 
lates to  nourishing  the  body. 

A.  After  the  food  has  been  brought  into  a  proper 
state  by  the  chemistry  which  nature  has  provided  in 
the  stomach  ;  this  organ,  by  a  tremulous,  undulating 
motion,  empties  its  contents  thus  altered,  into  another 
passage,  leading  from  the  stomach  ;    where  another 


'60  HEART. 

chemical  substance  is  added,  called  the  6^7e,  which 
forms  a  still  further  process  in  this  curious  manufac- 
ture. It  is  then  carried  in  its  descent  to  the  mouths 
of  innumerable  little  tubes,  called  lacteals,  from  a 
Latin  word  signifying  milk,  which  opening  along  in 
the  surfaces  of  the  intestines,  suck  up  the  milhy  fluid, 
into  which  the  nutritive  part  of  every  substance  we 
eat  is  alike  converted  in  a  short  time  by  the  inexpli- 
cable powers  which  Providence  has  assigned  to  the 
digestive  organs.  It  hence  makes  its  way  by  other 
vessels  into  the  great  current  of  the  blood,  by  which 
it  is  distributed  into  every  nook  and  corner  of  the  sys- 
tem ;  and  thus,  what  we  receive  with  our  mouth,  ar- 
rives in  a  few  hours  at  our  fingers^  ends. 


THE    HEART. 


T.  You  now  come  to  a  most  noble  part  of  the 
frame — the  engine  by  which  the  blood,  containing 
the  nutriment,  is  circulated  over  the  body.  You 
have  reached  what  may  be  termed  the  mainspring 
of  the  animal  structure.  "  The  wisdom  of  the  Cre- 
ator,^^  saith  Hamburgher,  ^^  is  in  nothing  seen  more 
gloriously  than  in  the  heart ;  "  though,  strictly  speak- 
ing, it  is  difficult  to  pronounce  what  part  of  the  sys- 
tem is  most  essential ;  for  it  all  acts  together  as  one 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  161 

perfect  and  connected  whole.  You  may  describe  the 
heart. 

A»  The  ^ear^/with  its  connected  machinery  the 
arteries  and  veins,  is  the  immediate  contrivance  by 
which  the  blood  is  distributed.  It  is  as  perfectly 
artificial  as  any  machine  whatever  for  conducting  or 
forcing  water.  The  arteries  are  the  blood  vessels 
which  convey  the  blood  from  the  heart  to  every  part 
of  the  body.  The  veiiis  are  the  vessels  by  which  it 
is  collected  and  returned  ;  while  the  heart  is  the  en- 
gine which  is  continually  throwing  it  out  in  one  di- 
rection and  receiving  it  in  another. 

T.     How  is  all  this  performed  ? 

A.  The  heart  is  a  hollow  muscle,  divided  off 
into  several  rooms, — and  is  made  upon  the  principle 
of  a  fire  engine. 

T.  You  have  mentioned  a  striking  comparison. 
We  have  found  almost  every  kind  of  apparatus  in  the 
human  frame  ; — but  one  would  hardly  have  thought 
of  hearing  of  a  Jire  engine, 

B.  I  believe  it  is  not  an  imaginary  resemblance, 
however. 

T.  By  no  means :  there  is  a  most  extraordinary 
similarity ;  and  to  evince  the  wisdom  of  the  Creator 
more  perfectly,  and  observe  how  exactly  one  of  the 
most  ingenious  productions  of  art  has  been  anticipated 
in  the  living  structure,  you  may  describe  a^re  engine. 

A.  A  fire  engine  requires,  in  the  first  place,  to 
have  a  room  to  recieve  the  water,  which  in  the  best 
engines,  is  carried  to  it  by  a  hose  or  leathern  tube. 
o2 


16^ 


CIRCULATION    OF    THE    BLOOD. 


From  this  room,  the  water  runs  immediately  through 
a  little  hole  into  a  second  room,  called  the  farcing 
room,  where  it  is  forced  out  in  a  stream  by  simply 
applying  a  powerful  pressure  upon  it.  The  water 
cannot  run  back  again  from  the  forcing  room  into  the 
receiving  room,  when  the  pressure  is  applied,  because 
there  is  a  little  valve  or  door  placed  over  the  hole. 
The  door,  swinging  inward  into  the"  forcing  room,  is 
immediately  crowded  to  and  shut  by  the  water,  when 
it  would  endeavor  to  escape,  as  the  forcing  com- 
mences ;  and  the  water  is  therefore  compelled  to  fly 
out  into  the  hose  or  pipe  provided  for  it.  But  when 
the  forcing  ceases,  the  door  opens  and'  lets  in  more 
water, — and  so  on  continually.  Such  is  a  descrip- 
tion of  a  fire  engine  of  the  simplest  kind.  There  are 
two  of  these  engines  in  the  heart ;  each  having  its 
receiving  and  forcing  rooms,  with  its  little  door  be- 
tween them ;  and  each  having  its  hoses  to  receive 
the  blood  and  to  convey  it  where  it  is  required ; 
making  four  rooms  in  the  whole,  and  the  heart  being 
divided  off  into  four  apartments  for  that  purpose. 
With  one  engine,  the  blood  is  received  from  every 
part  of  the  body  by  two  hoses  of  veins  which  termi- 
nate each  in  a  single  pipe,  where  they  enter  the 
heart.  By  another  hose,  which  is  termed  an  artery, 
the  same  engine  forces  all  this  blood  into  the  lungs, 
where  it  has  to  undergo  a  certain  change  from  the 
air.  The  second  engine]  in  its  turn,  now  receives 
the  blood  from  the  lungs  by  other  hoses  of  veins ; 
and  again  by  another  arterial  hose  distributes  it  over 
the  whole  system ;  whence  it  is  returned  to  |he  heart, 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY. 


163 


to  go  over  the  same  process  of  being  first  received 
from  the  body  and  propelled  into  the  lungs, — and 
then  received  from  the  lungs  and  propelled  into  the 
body,  by  two  separate  engines,  as  long  as  life  shall 
last. 


Fig.    30. 

A  Fire  Engine  of  the  simplest  construction. 


a,  the  receiving  hose  emptying  the  water  into  b,  the  receiving 
roQm, — whence  it  passes  into  tZ,  the  forcing  room,  through  e, 
a  little  orifice  with  a  valve  or  clapper  over  it,  opening  into 
the  forcing  room,  the  valve  shutting  down  and  closing  the 
orifice,  when  the  forcing  instrument  g^  d,  descends.  The 
water  is  then  forced  out  into/,  the  delivering  hose,  through  e, 
another  little  orifice  -w^th  a  valve  over  it,  which  opens  into 
the  hose,  and  prevents  the  return  of  the  water  into  the  forcing 
room.     The  dotted  line  represents  the  course  of  the  water. 


164  CIRCULATION    OF    THE    BLOOD. 

Fig.    31. 

A  view  of  the  heart,  showing  its  resemblance  to  a  fire  engine. 
C 


d 


a 

B,  A,  C,  D,  the  four  rooms  in  the  heart,  i,  a,  c,  (Z,  four  principal 
veins  and  arteries  conveying  the  blood  to  and  from  the  heart, 
— (the  dotted  lines  representing  the  course.) 

6,  a  vein  bringing  the  blood  from  the  body  into  B,  the  first  receiv- 
ing room,  called  the  right  auricle  ;  whence  it  passes  into  A, 
the  first  forcing  room,  termed  the  right  ventricle. — A  small 
valve  is  represented  playing  over  the  orifice,  and  opening  into 
the  forcing  room,  to  prevent  the  return  of  the  blood,  exactly 
as  in  the  fire  engine,  a,  the  artery  by  which  the  blood  is 
thrown  into  the  lungs,  c,  the  valve  opening  into  this  artery, 
and  preventing  the  return  of  the  j^lood,  the  same  as  in  the  en- 
gine. 

— Again — 

c,  a  vein  by  which  the  blood  is  returned  from  the  lungs,  and  de- 
livered into  C,  the  second  receiving  room,  called  the  left  au- 
ricle ;  whence  it  passes  into  D,  the  second  forcing  room,  term- 
ed the  left  ventricle  ;  and  hence  into  <Z,  the  great  artery  which 
distributes  it  over  the  body.  The  valves — the  same  as  in  the 
other  rooms. 

N.  B.  The  situations,  shapes  and  dimensions  of  the  different 
parts  are  not  exactly  observed  in  the  figure.  In  the  heart,  the 
auricles  B,  C,  have  more  than  one  ^ein.  The  valves  are  also 
differently  shaped  from  those  in  the  figure.  But  the  leading 
principles  are  seen ;  sufficient  to  show  that,  in  construction, 
the  heart  is  literally  a  double  fire  engine. 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  165 

T.     What  ivories  all  this  machinery  ? 

A.  Each  room  of  the  heart  seems  to  work  itself. 
— The  sides  alternately  contract  and  expand  like  a 
bellows  ;  so  that  the  cavities  are  continually  filling 
and  discharging.  The  cause  is  unknown  ;  though 
some  think  it  is  owing  to  a  peculiar  quality  of  the 
blood. 

T.  In  Jire  engines  there  is  a  body  of  compressed 
air,  which  is  so  contrived  as  to  press  the  water  out ; 
because  the  stroke  of  the  pump,  w^hich  is  only  by 
jerks 3  would  not  be  capable  of  producing  a  steady  mo- 
tion. Is  there  any  corresponding  contrivance  in  the 
heart,  since  here  too  the  strokes  are  only  by  in- 
tervals ? 

A.  It  is  stated,  that  the  arteries  which  receive 
the  rush  of  the  blood  from  the  heart  are  made  elastic ; 
this  being  the  case,  they  enlarge  when  the  blood  is 
thrown  into  them,  and  as  soon  as  the  discharge  cea- 
ses, contracting  by  their  own  spring,  they  press  the 
blood  along  in  its  course  ;  that  is  to  say,  they  answer 
the  same  purpose  as  the  air  vessel  in  the  engine. 

B,  One  feels  disposed  to  stop  after  this  desrcip- 
tion  of  the  heart ;  for  it  is  impossible  there  can  be 
any  thing  so  wonderful  in  any  other  part  of  the  body, 
as  the  mechanism  you  have  described. 

T.  We  express  our  surprise  at  finding  means  em- 
ployed in  the  living  structure  resembling  our  own 
contrivances.  But  if  they  are  such  as  would  best 
answer  the  purpose,  what  else  could  we  expect  to 
find  in  the  works  of  a  Divine  Architect  ?  But  before 
you  have  quite  done  with  the  circulating  system,  you 


166 


CIRCULATION    OF    THE    BLOOD. 


must  notice  the  care   and  solicitude  with  which  the 
blood  vessels  are  in  many  cases  disposed. 

A.  A  wound  in  an  artery  would  be  much  more 
dangerous  than  in  a  vein  ;  because  the  blood  rushes 
in  the  arteries  with  much  greater  force  than  in  the 
veins,  which  only  return  the  blood  to  the  heart.  It 
hence  affords  a  striking  evidence  of  a  designing  Prov- 
idence, that  the  arteries  lie  deeper  than  the  veins  ; 
and,  where  particularly  exposed,  run  along  in  a 
groove  or  a  channel  cut  into  the  very  hone.  In  the 
hands  they  pass  down  hetwcen  the  fingers,  so  that  the 
familiar  accident  of  a  cross  cut  in-  the  finger,  can 
never  separate  one  of  them  witliout  cleaving  the  bone. 
How  came  these  vessels  to  take  a  course  so  secure 
and  defended  ?  What  led  them,  more  than  the  veins, 
to  shun  exposed  situation,  where  they  would  have 
been  liable  to  injury  ?  We  know  no  other  cause  than 
an  Intelligence  which  perceived  the  danger  to  be 
avoided. 

B.  A  kind  provision  for  heedless  children  ! 

T.     Kind  for  every  one  ;  as  no  parts  are  so  liable 
to  be  wounded  as  the  fingers. 

A.  As  the  veins,  which  are  the  vessels  that  return 
the  blood  to  the  heart,  that  is,  all  below  the  heart, 
have  to  ascend, — the  blood  has  to  mount  in  a  direc- 
tion opposite  to  that  of  its  weight.  Here,  therefore, 
is  the  danger  of  a  rejloiv — or  a  tendency  contrary  to 
the  true  circulation.  Now,  the  universal  provision 
against  the  flowing  of  water  in  a  direction  opposite  to 
that  desired,  is  a  valve  ox  flood  gate.  It  is  the  same 
in  the  present  instance.     There  are  a  great  number  of 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  167 

little  skins  or  thin  membranes  lying  close  down  to  the 
side  of  the  vein,  at  suitable  distances,  and  which  allow 
a  free  passage  to  the  stream  when  it  pursues  its  ascend- 
ing course,  but  thrust  out  and  bar  up  the  passage 
by  the  fluid  getting  behind  them,  whenever  it  would 
attempt  to  flow  the  other  way. 

B.  Are  there  not  the  same  valves  in  the  vessels 
which  convey  the  blood  from  the  heart  ? 

A.  There  are  not :  except  one  at  the  mouth  of 
each  artery  which  takes  the  blood  from  the  heart. 
There  are  none  stationed  along  in  these  vessels  as  in 
the  veins  ;  and  they  would  have  been  of  no  use,  as 
there  is  no  danger  of  a  reflux  of  the  blood  in  its  pas- 
sage from  the  heart. 

B.  What  endless  exam*ples  of  an  all  contriving 
wisdom !  If  one  should  attempt  to  account  for  the 
formation  of  these  loose  skins  or  valves,  by  supposing 
the  force  of  the  blood  might  have  raised  them  up  from 
the  sides  of  the  vessels,  they  must,  according  to  this 
explanation,  have  been  numerous  in  the  arteries, 
where  the  strength  of  the  current  is  the  most  power- 
ful ;  but  we  find  there  are  none.  The  operation  of 
natural  causes  seems  to  be  exactly  reversed  in  this, 
as  in  many  other  parts  of  our  wonderful  structure. 

T.  There  is  one  part  of  the  apparatus  concerned 
in  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  which  you  have  omit- 
ted, viz.  the  lungs.  You  may  briefly  describe  these  ; 
and  we  will  take  our  leave  of  the  interior  of  the 
animal  frame. 


168  LUNGS. 


THE    LUNGS. 


A.  The  LUNGS  are  two  large  spongy  substances 
which  fill  the  upper  part  of  the  chest,  and  are  admir- 
ably fitted  for  the  purpose  they  answer,  viz.  to 
ventilate  the  blood,  or  afford  it  the  air  by  which  it  is 
purified  and  rendered  fit  for  the  support  of  life. 

B.  I  thought  you  were  going  to  say,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  breathing. 

A.  It  is  the  same  thing.  The  principal  use  of 
breathing  is  the  introduction  of  air  for  the  benefit  of 
the  blood  ; — it  being  found,  that  the  blood  derives 
some  of  its  most  essential  properties  from  the  air 
which  we  inhale  into  the  lungs.  All  the  blood  of  the 
body  is,  for  this  purpose,  thrown  up  into  the  lungs  by 
the  heart  in  the  course  of  every  circulation  : — and  here 
we  may  notice  the  curious  mechanism  of  the  lungs. 
They  are  full  of  air  holes  running  in  every  direction ; 
and  the  blood  is  exposed  to  the  air  in  innumerable 
vessels  which  are  spread  over  the  sides  of  these  air 
holes,  for  this  purpose. — Again,  what  we  find  in  no 
other  part  of  the  body,  these  passages  for  the  air  are 
made  of  a  substance  like  horn  : — this  preserves  them 
open  and  free  for  the  circulation  of  the  air.  How 
comes  it,  we  may  ask,  they  are  not  made  of  the  same 
substance  with  the  veins  ?  We  can  only  answer  by 
referring  to  design.  The  hlood  can  force  its  way 
through  a  sliin  tube ;  but  air  would  be  liable  to  ho. 
obstructed.     Lastly,  there  is  a    double   passage     for 


NATURAL     THEOLOGY.  169 

breathing  ; — through  the  mouth,  and  by  the  nostrils. 
But  for  the  latter,  we  could  not  breathe  without  diffi- 
culty, in  taking  our  food.  The  infant  would  find  it 
impossible. 


COVERING    OF    ANIMALS. 

T.  You  have  now  taken  a  general  survey  of  tht 
internal  structure.  You  may  close  with  a  brief  ac- 
count of  the  admirable  covering  with  ivhich  the 
whole  is  invested. 

A..  The  skin  is  a  protection  from  the  air,  which 
we  know  from  experience,  would  occasion  insup- 
portable suffering,  if  it  were  immediately  in  contact 
with  the  flesh.  For  this  and  other  purposes,  there  is 
a  three-fold  provision  :  there  are  three  skins.  The 
first,  called  the  epidermis,  or  scarf  skin,  possesses 
no  feeling,  and  covers  the  body,  like  a  glove.  It  is 
this  skin  which  is  raised  by  a  blister.  The  next  is 
the  seat  of  the  color ; — ^in  Africans  black, — in  the 
European,  white,  &c.  This  is  called  the  rete  mu- 
cosum.  Last  of  all,  is  the  true  skin  ;  the  anatomical 
•expression  is  cutis,  which  in  Latin  signifies  skin. 

T.  Another  use  of  the  sJcin  is  to  prevent  the 
hody  from  being  overheated,,  and  to  preserve  an 
equal  temperatiire  in  the  system. 

B.     This  must  be  some  extraordinary  contrivance. 

A.  There  are  innumerable  little  orifices,  termed 
pores,  m  every  part  of  the  skin,  though  invisible  to 
p 


l70  COVERING  OF  ANIMALS. 

the  naked  eye,  through  which  a  thin,  watery  liquid  is 
continually  issuing,  called  the  sweat,  when  percepti- 
ble to  the  senses  ; — at  other  times,  the  insensible 
perspiration.  If  our  sight  was  sufficiently  keen,  we 
should  see  every  person  in  health,  surrounded  with 
a  cloud  of  vapor. 

B.     But  still,  how  is  this  to  prevent  the  body  from 
being  overheated  ? 

A.  Upon  a  very  simple  principle,  which  is  here 
beautifully  introduced.  If  we  wet  our  finger  and 
hold  it  in  the  air,  we  are  sensible  .  of  an  immediate 
coolness  in  the  finger.  It  is  because  the  heat  escapes 
with  the  moisture,  as  the  finger  dries ;  and  the 
t[uicker  we  dry  the  finger  by  waving  it  in  the  air,  the 
greater  the  coolness  produced.  The  constant  evapora- 
tion or  drying  up  of  the  perspiration  of  the  skin  has  the 
same  effect  ; — and  hence  the  danger  of  sitting  by  an 
open  window,  or  in  a  current  of  air,  when  the  per- 
spiration is  free. 

B.  This  brings  into  view  a  new  kindness  of 
Providence,  that  the  more  the  body  is  heated  by 
weather  or  exercise,  the  more  moisture  is  thrown  out 
upon  the  surface.  The  Jire  becomes  its  own  extin- 
guisher. We  now  understand  also  how  those  marvel- 
lous accounts  may  all  be  true,  of  persons  setting  in 
hot  ovens  without  being  burned.  The  profuse  perspi- 
ration prevents  the  efiects  of  the  heat. 

T.  Do  we  discover  any  striking  varieties  in  the 
coverings  of  different  animals  ? 

A.  "The  human  animal  is  the  only  one  which  is 
naked,    and    the  only  one  which  can  clothe  itself. 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  171 

This  is  one  of  the  properties  which  renders  him  an 
animal  of  all  climates  and  of  all  seasons.  He  can 
adapt  the  warmth  or  lightness  of  his  covering  to  the 
temperature  of  his  habitation.  Had  he  been  born 
with  a  fleece  upon  his  back^,  although  he  might  haye 
been  comforted  by  its  warmth  in  high  latitudes,  it 
would  have  oppressed  him  by  its  weight  and  heat,  as 
the  species  spread  toward  the  equator.  What  art 
however  does  for  men,  nature  has  in  many  instances 
done  for  those  animals  which  are  incapable  of  art. 
The  clothing  of  its  own  accord  changes  w^ith  their 
necessities.  This  is  particularly  the  case  with  that  large 
tribe  of  quadrupeds  which  are  covered  with  furs. 
Every  dealer  in  bare  skins  and  rabbit  skins,  knows 
how  much  the  fur  is  thickened  by  the  approach  of 
winter.  It  seems  to  be  a  part  of  the  same  constitu- 
tion and  the  same  design,  that  wool,  in  hot  countries, 
degenerates,  as  it  is  called,  but  in  truth  (most  happi- 
ly for  the  animaVs  ease)  passes  into  hair ;  whilst,  on 
the  contrary,  that  hair  in  the  dogs  of  the  polar  re- 
gions, is  turned  into  wool,  or  something  very  like  it. 
To  which  may  be  referred  what  naturalists  have  re- 
marked, that  bears,  wolves,  foxes,  hares,  he.  which 
do  not  take  the  water,  have  the  fur  much  thicker  on 
the  back,  than  underneath  ;  whereas,  in  the  beaver, 
it  is  the  thickest  beneath,  as  are  also  the  feathers  in 
the  water  fowl.  We  know  the  final  cause,  the  use 
and  benefit,  of  all  this  ;  and  we  know  no  more. 

T.     Wbat  is  there  remarkable  in  the  covering  of 
birds  ? 


172  COVERING  OF  ANIMALS. 

A.  On  account  of  its  peculiar  lightness,  smooth- 
ness, and  warmth,  it  is  singularly  adapted  to  the  uses 
of  the  animal.  A  bird's  wing  is  a  mechanical  won- 
der. It  may  be  doubted  whether  the  most  ingenious 
artist  would  have  hit  upon  the  construction,  till  he 
had  seen  it  exemplified.  He  would  have  known  there 
should  be  something  to  spread  out,  and  be  capable  of 
folding  up,  and  that  it  should  be  very  light,  and  suffi- 
ciently strong,  at  the  same  time,  to  make  a  stroke 
upon  the  air.  The  probability  is,  he  would  have 
thought  of  a  thin  membrane  like  a  piece  of  cloth, 
so  contrived  as  to  open  and  shut  like  a  fan,  which  is 
actually  the  plan  which  has  been  adopted  in  artificial 
wings.  But  there  must  be  one  unavoidable  imperfec- 
tion in  such  a  wing.  If  accidentally  torn,  it  would 
be  ruined  for  the  bird's  use.  This  difficulty  is  avoided 
in  the  bird's  wing  by  the  only  imaginable  contrivance 
which  could  have  answered  the  purpose  ;  and  that 
Is,  having  the  wing  composed  of  distinct  feathers,  suffi- 
ciently close,  when  united,  to  give  the  necessary  stroke, 
but  separating  in  case  of  any  uunsual  violence  that  would 
endanger  a  membrane,  and  then  recovering  their  places 
by  their  own  elasticity  or  springiness.  Such  is  the  struc- 
ture of  a  hird^s  wing.  Its  ingenuity  will  still  further 
appear,  when  we  examine  a  single  feather.  If  the 
beard  or  vane  of  a  feather,  that  part  we  usually  strip 
off  when  we  make  a  pen,  be  stroked  down  toward  the 
follow  or  quill  part,  we  find  the  little  filaments  or 
threads  will  stand  out  from  the  stem,  and  remain  sep- 
arate ;  but  if  they  are  smoothed  back  in  their  places 
^hey  will  reunite  and  become  fastened  together  with 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  178 

considerable  force.  They  thus  admirably  answer 
the  purposes  of  a  wing ;  for  when  parted  by  any  vio- 
lence which  would  have  torn^  instead  of  rumpling 
them,  had  they  not  been  separate,  the  bird  can  re- 
place them  with  a  feiu  stroTces  of  his  bill. 

B.  This  explains  why  we  see  birds  often  so  dili- 
gently engaged  in  stroking  an  oily  substance  over 
their  feathers.  It  probably  contains  something  glu- 
tinous to  hold  the  filaments  together. 

A.  We  know  of  nothing  glutinous  which  the 
weather  would  not  harden  or  melt.  It  must  be  some 
mechanical  contrivance  ;  and  so  it  is.  Between 
every  two  filaments  there  are  little  hooks  ;  on  one 
filament  curving  up,  and  on  the  other,  down,  so  as 
to  catch  over  and  fasten  together,  like  the  latch  of 
a  door. 

In  the  feathers  of  the  ostrich,  this  apparatus  is 
wanting,  and  the  consequence  is  easily  seen  ;  the 
filaments  hang  loose  and  form  a  sort  of  down  merely, 
well  adapted  for  the  purposes  of  a  fan,  or  for  an  orna- 
ment, but  which  would  certainly  have  been  an  imper- 
fection, had  the  bird,  which  it  is  not,  been  adapted 
for  flight. 

In  the  body  feathers  of  all  birds  the  lower  filaments 
of  the  feather  are  not  clasped  together,  but  are  mere 
furze  or  down.  The  clasps  are  confined  to  the  upper 
part  of  the  vane.  We  find,  upon  examination,  that 
from  the  place  where  the  clasps  are  discontinued  and 
the  do\vny  part  commences,  the  feathers  are  overlap- 
ped by  the  feathers  behind  like  the  shingles  upon 
a  house,  and  that  the  clasps  are  not  wanted  here  for 
p  2 


174  COVERING  OL  ANIMALS. 

the  purpose  they  answer,  where  the  feather  is  expo- 
sed to  the  water  or  ah-,  viz.  to  produce  a  smooth, 
co'nnected  surface, — while  the  down  in  this  under 
situation,  is  more  useful* for  the  warmth  of  the  bird. 


The  body  feather  of  a  bird,  exhibiting  the  discontinuance  of  the 
clasps  at  the  lower  part  of  the  stem.    - 

B.  What  a  striking  and  beautiful  design  !  If  the 
clasps  had  been  produced  by  a  set  of  causes,  consti- 
tuted by  accident,  and  acting  as  all  ignorant  causes 
must  act,  by  a  general  operation,  then  we  are  at  lib- 
erty to  ask,  why  the  apparatus  was  discontinued  only 
at  this  part  of  the  feather,  where  the  occasion  for  it 
ceases,  or  where  the  feather  is  covered  ?  What  7iatu- 
ral  tendency  could  there  be  in  covering  the  feather 
to  prevent  the  formation  of  the  little  hooks  ?  We  see 
a  regard  to  utility,  and  can  give  no  other  solution. 

T.  Did  you  ever  notice  another  curious  circum- 
stance in  this  remarkable  structure  ? 

A.  The  filaments  are  broad  and  flat,  like  the 
sticks  of  a  fan.  Owing  to  this  circumstance,  they 
easily  bend  for  the  approach  of  one  another,  whilst 
in  the  other  direction  they  bend  with  difficulty. 
Now,  it  is  observable,  that  it  is  in  this  latter  direction, 
the  feathers  strike  upon  the  air  and  in  which,  conse- 


NATURAL     THEOLOGY.  175v 

qtiently,  the  greatest  strength  and  power  of  resistance 
are  wanted. 

Also,  the  quill  part  is  a  curiosity.  It  consists  of 
two  sets  of  fibres,  the  one  running  lengthwise,  which 
are  those  we  separate  when  we  make  a  pen  ;  and 
the  others  passing  around  the  quill,  like"  the  ferrules 
upon  a  cane,  or  the  hoops  upon  a  barrel.  The  rings 
secure  the  quill  from  being  split.  The  hoops  are 
a  security  to  the  staves.  Hence  it  is,  we  are  obliged 
to  scrape  a  quill  before  we  can  get  a  split.  We  must 
in  fact  unhoop  the  barrel. 

B.  How  many  kinds  of  arts  we  have  had  exem- 
plified in  the  living  machine  !  Here,  it  seems,  we 
have  that  of  the  cooper. — Speaking  of  the  the  cover- 
ing of  animals,  is  there  any  design,  we  can  perceive, 
in  the  difference  of  color  1 

A.  It  is  found,  that  heat  will  not  escape  so  easily 
through  a  white  surface.  The  colors  of  animals  in 
very  cold  countries  are  remarkably  inclined  to  white  ; — 
and  animals  are  apt  to  become  of  this'  color,  when 
removed  to  a  high  latitude.  We  can  assign  no  other 
reason  for  this,  but  a  beneficient  appointment  of  Provi- 
dence, for  the  comfort  of  the  animal.  The  natives  of 
hot  countries,  on  the  contrary,  are  more  or  less  of  a 
dark  complexion. 

B.  But  does  not  black  absorb  the  heat,  or,  as  is 
commonly  said,  draw  the  sun  ?  and  must  it  not  there- 
fore be  an  uncomfortable  color,  in  those  regions  ? 

A.  There  are  some  recent  experiments  which 
seem  to  shew  that  a  black  color  will  protect  the  skin 
from  the  scorching  effects  of  the  sun's  rays ;  and  it  '- 


176  COVERING  OP  ANIMALS. 

well  known  it  will  cool  quickest  in  the  shade.  The 
African,  therefore,  derives  a  double  benefit  from  his 
color  in  his  own  climate ;  though,  in  a  different  situ- 
ation, the  provision  would  cease  to  be  beneficial.  We 
see  hfere  another  violation  of  nature  in  his*  removal. 

T.  Having  spoken  of  several  particulars  in  which 
the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  the  Creator  are  exhibit- 
ed in  covering  and  protecting  the  body  with  an  evi- 
dent accommodation  to  the  wants  of  men  in  different 
situations,  and  to  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  dif- 
ferent animals  ; — we  will  close  our  observations  of 
an  anatomical  kind,  by  glancing  at  one  further  mark 
of  Divine  goodness,  viz.  in  the  remedies  naturally 
provided. 

A.  There  are  few  cases  in  which  prospective 
contrivance  is  more  conspicuous;  or  in  which  we 
have  more  occasion  to  admire  the  providence  of  God, 
and  his  tender  care  for  our  preservation.  One  of 
the  most  striking  is  the  provision  for  the  union  of  broken 
bones.  From  the  situation  and  structure  of  the  bones 
if  they  are  broken,  the  injury  must  be  irreparable,  un- 
less theys  hould  be  capable  of  taking  the  cure  princi- 
pally upon  themselves.  The  whole  thickness  of  the  flesh 
would  have  to  be  separated  in  the  first  instance  ;  and 
then  how  to  unite  them,  if  this  was  to  be  a  business 
of  ours,  would  surpass  our  ingenuity.  The  provision, 
as  is  well  known,  consists  in  there  oozing  out  from 
the  broken  extremities  of  the  bone  a  soft  fluid  matter 
that  soon  turns  into  bone,  and  unites  them  together 
more  firmly  than  before  the  fracture. 


NATURAL   THEOLOGY.  177 

B.  Just  as  in  cementing  a  vessel,  we  apply  some 
liquid  substance  which  hardens  and  unites  the  parts  ; 
— except,  that  in  the  present  instance,  the  uniting 
matter  is  supplied  hy  the  fracture  itself;  another  of 
the  innumerable  instances  in  which  our  contrivances 
are  but  a  rude  and  imperfect  imitation  of  those  which 
creative  skill  has  employed  in  the  human  structure. 

A.  With  regard  to  the  union  of  bones,  there  are 
several  exceptions,  singularly  observable  and  remark- 
able as  evidences  of  design.  There  are  some  bones 
in  which  when  broken,  true  bone  is  never  formed  anew 
to  repair  the  injury^  as  is  the  general  provision.  When 
the  arm  is  fractured,  a  bony  matter  exudes  from  the 
extremities,  which  finally  surrounds  them  completely 
with  a  ring  of  bone.  But  when  a  piece  of  the  sT^ull 
is  removed,  no  new  hone  is  produced  ;  nothing  but 
a  skinny  or  ligamentous  substance  is  formed  to  fill  the 
opening.  So,  when  the  Icnee  pan  is  fractured,  the 
pieces  are  always  united  in  the  same  way.  In  either 
of  these  cases,  if  bone  or  callous  was  formed,  with 
its  ordinary  irregularity  of  shape, — ^with  a  projecting 
ring  over  the  fracture  the  cavity  of  the  skull,  or  knee 
joint  would  be  encroached  on,  and  the  most  serious 
evils  would  ensue.  Why  the  power  of  creating  new 
substance  like  itself,  should  be  denied  to  the  skull  and 
the  knee  pan  alone,  we  can  only  explain  by  referring 
to  an  Architect  who  perceived  the  necessity  of  these 
exceptions. 


178 


COVERING   OF    ANIMALS. 

Fig.  33. 


The  principal  bones  of  the  human  frame,  referring  to  former 
descriptions. 

T.  You  have  now  taken  a  general  survey  of  some 
of  the  principal  marks  of  design  and  wisdom  in  our 
frame.  You  have  seen  one  diversified  exhibition  of 
skill,  far  exceeding  though  strikingly  analogous  to 
some  of  the  most  ingenious  contrivances  of  human 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  179 

art.  Whoever  should  refuse  his  conviction  must  be 
incapable,  it  should  seem,  of  trusting- to  any  conclu- 
sion in  any  case.  The  subject  has  not  been  pursued 
from  any  apprehension  that  you  need  to  be  confirmed 
in  the  belief  of  a  Creator ;  but  for  the  sake  of  im- 
jpression;  of  multiplying  the  views  which  may  lead 
you  to  think  of  God  ;  and  for  the  purpose  of  supply- 
ing further  opportunity  of  devout  sentiment  and  medi- 
tation. 

It  would  now  be  proper  to  turn  our  attention  to  the 
intellectual  and  moral  faculties.  The  Natural  The- 
ology of  the  Mind,  you  may  well  suppose,  cannot  be 
less  replete  with  the  indications  of  a  wise  and  benefi- 
cent Author  than  the  physical  structure.  But  this 
must  be  reserved  for  another  opportunity.  There  is 
one  connected  subject,  that  o^  instincts,  which  may 
be  mentioned. 


INSTINCTS 


A.  We  behold  the  instinct  of  animals  admirably 
adapted  to  their  different  wants.  In  the  bird,  it  is 
a  peculiar  sagacity  for  building  a  nest,  in  the  spider, 
for  spinning  a  web,  in  the  bee,  for  forming  a  [honey 
comb.  The  instinct  is  adapted  to  the  nature  of  the 
animal.  Were  they  to  exchange  their  instincts,  it 
would  be  fatal  to  them.  The  bird  could  not  sit  up- 
on a  web,  or  live  in  a  honey  comb.  We  have  only  to 
consider  the   innumerable   species  of   animals — and 


180  INSTINCTS.  * 

that  every  one  has  exactly  the  kind  of  instinct  which 
is  suitable  for  it,  and  we  must  be  sensible  how  plainly 
it  shows  an  all  disposing  wisdom  and  goodness.  It 
is  no  explanation  to  say,  the  body  of  the  spider  af- 
fords a  liquid  which  can  be  drawn  out  into  threads, 
and  is  suitable  for  making  a  web,  and,  therefore,  the 
insect  employs  the  materials  with  which  it  iSnds  itself 
supphed.  For  what  leads  it  to  know  how  to  employ 
them,  without  instruction,  as  soon  as  it  is  born  ?  We 
are  therefore  left  to  admire  a  striking  display  of 
benificence  and  design  in  the  distribution  of  instinct ; 
that  every  animal  is  equally  furnished  with  the  par- 
ticular species  of  sagacity  which  is  suitable  to  its 
wants. 

Instinct  forms  one  of  the  most  pleasing  and  in- 
structive parts  of  natural  history,  and  one  of  the  most 
delightful  studies  to  every  mind  that  loves  to  trace 
the  beneficent  care  of  the  Creator?  It  is  not  confin- 
ed to  dumb  animals  j  but  we  are  to  acknowledge  the 
goodness,  which  has  given  us  instinct  as  well  as  rea- 
son. It  is  by  instinct  infants  manifest  signs  of  fear 
when  they  are  approached  with  a  countenance  or 
voice  expressive  of  displeasure  ;  and  are  soothed 
and  pleased  with  gentle  and  tender  expressions.  We 
have  many  instincts  which  the  merciful  Author  of 
our  nature  has  given  us,  for  a  variety  of  occasions, 
when  the  powers  of  reason  are  not  unfolded,  or  cir- 
cumstances would  prevent  them  from  answering  our 
purpose.  Thus  our  preservation  from  danger  often 
requires,  that  some  action  should  be  performed  so 
suddenly  that  there  is  no  time  to  think  and  determine. 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  181 

What  could  save  a  person,  when  slipping  upon  the 
edge  of  a  precipice,  if  he  had  no  instinct  to  produce 
a  sudden  exertion,  but  must  first  consider  his  danger 
and  wait  the  decision  of  his  understanding  1 

T.     You  may  mention  some  examples  of  this  re- 
markable faculty  in  animals. 

A.  The  honey  bee,  from  the  days  of  Virgil,  lias 
been  celebrated  for  its  sagacity  in  gathering  its  honey 
and  wax,  in  fabricating  its  comb,  and  in  rearing  its 
young.  But  it  has  not  till  recently  been  discovered^ 
that  its  works  will  bear  such  a  critical  examination  of 
the  mechanic  and  mathematician.  It  is  a  curious  ma. 
thematical  problem,  what  is  the  best  manner  of  ma- 
king a  frame  of  bones  laid  side  by  side,  and  one  upon 
another  like  a  honey-comb,  so  as  to  produce  the  great- 
est strength,  and  the  utmost  possible  saving  of  mate- 
rials and  labor  ?  It  was  seen,  that  each  of  the  boxes 
should  be  a  figure  of  six  sides,  a  hexagon.  Such  is 
the  form  of  the  cells  of  the  honey-comb.  It  was  also 
perceived,  that  the  bottom  of  each  box  should  not 
stand  exactly  upon  the  top  of  the  one  underneath 
that  is,  not  rim  upon  rim,  but  that  every  box  should 
be  placed  so  as  to  have  three  partitions  meet  on  the 
under  side,  forming  a  buttress  to  strengthen  the  bot- 
tom. Such  also  is  the  structure  of  the  honey-comb. 
It  was  further  demonstrated,  that  the  bottom  of  each 
box  should  not  be  a  single  plane  or  flat,  like  the  bot- 
tom of  a  bucket,  but  should  consist  of  three  pieces 
making  a  spreading  or  obtuse  angle  with  the  sides  of 
the  box  and  also  with   one   another.     Su^h  agairi  is 


382  INSTINCTS. 

the  construction  of  the  honey-comb.  But  another 
problem  remained,  viz  :  to  determine  the  precise  an- 
gle at  which  the  three  pieces  ought  to  be  united  tO' 
render  the  structure  perfect.  "  This  is  one  of  those 
problems,  belonging  to  the  higher  parts  of  mathemat- 
ics, which  are  called  problems  of  maxima  and  mini- 
ma.  It  has  been  resolved  by  some  mathematicians, 
particularly  by  the  ingenious  Mr.  Maclaurin,  (one  of 
the  most  distinguished  of  the  disciples  of  Newton)  ^ 
by  a  fluxionary  calculation  to  be  found  in  the  Trans- 
actions of  the  Royal  Society  of  London.  He  has 
determined  the  angle  required ;  and  he  found  by  the 
most  exact  mensuration  the  subject  could  admit,  that 
it  is  the  very  angle  in  which  the  three  planes  in  the 
bottom  'of  the  cell  of  a  honey-comb  do  actually 
meet." 

Another  curious  example  of  philosphical  instinct  is 
the  web  of  the  spider.  The  web  usually  consists  of 
circular  threads  laid  round  upon  straight  ones  which 
form  the  stays  that  fasten  it  to  the  wall.  The  circu- 
lar threads  are  covered  with  a  glutinous  substanc  e, 
and  by  these  the  food  of  the  animal  is  caught.  But  the 
straight  ones,  which  are  more  necessary  to  the  web, 
are  not  adhesive,  and  are  therefore  not  permitted  to 
grapple  with  the  fly,  so  as  to  be  exposed  to  the  dan- 
ger of  being  broken  by  its  violence.  The  same  is 
true  of  the  uttermost  thread  which  encompasses  the 
web,  and  which  is  of  particular  importance  to  its  se- 
curity. This  is  not  adhesive.  The  most  skilful  artist 
could  not  have  displayed  more  judgment. 

T.     Upon  what  grounds   do  you  consider  the   in- 


NATURAL  THEOLOGY,  183 

stincts  of  animals  as  directly  referrible  to  an  immedi- 
ate Providence  ? 

A.  First,  the  very  perfection  of  instinct  shews 
that  the  animal  does  not  act  from  any  sagacity  and 
reason  of  its  own.  If  instinct  is  not  to  be  ascribed 
to  a  peculiar  providential  guidance  ;  if  it  is  not  a 
blind  propensity  in  regard  to  the  animal ;  a  propensi- 
ty prior  to  experience  and  independent  of  instruction ; 
the  bee  has  obtained  a  deeper  insight  into  the  princi- 
f)le.s  of  mathematics,  than  most  of  our  own  species. 
The  early  period  at  which  animals  discover  their 
instinct,  not  only  evinces  the  care  and  goodness  of 
Providence,  but  that  it  is  wholly  an  operation  of 
Providence.  The  chicken  which  is  hatched  in  an 
^ven,  and  can  have  enjoyed  no  opportunity  of  learning, 
is  not  ignorant  how  to  provide  for  itself  like  others  of 
Its  kind.  '^  When  caterpillars  are  shaken  from  a  tree 
in  every  direction,  all  of  them  immediately  craul 
toward  the  trunk  and  climb  up,  though  they  have 
never  formerly  been  upon  the  ground."  They  lose 
no  time  in  reasoning  what  they  shall  do. 

B.  But  still,  do  not  dumb  creatures  appear  to 
reflect  and  reason  1  I  think  it  is  Huber  who  mentions 
that  when  bees  discover  that  some  neiv  insect  has  been 
depradating  in  their  hives.,  they  will  soon  contrive  an 
impediment  to  prevent  it  from  entering  a  second  time 
If  it  is  a  broad  bodied  insect,  they  will  narrow  the 
door.  If  a  long  and  slender  one,  they  will  put  up  an 
extra  partition  so  very  near  the  entrance,  as  not  to 
permit  a  body  of  that  length  to  conform  itself  to  the 
passage.     It  is  commonly  said,  I  know  not   with  what 


184  INSTINCTS. 

truth,  that  if  a  dog,  in  pursuit  of  his  master,  arrives 
at  a  place  where  three  roads  meet,  he  will  scent  only 
upon  two,  without  repeating  the  experiment  upon  the 
third,  as  if  he  reasoned,  that  this  of  course  must  be 
the  right. 

T.  It  would  be  unfortunate  indeed,  a  very  imper- 
fect provision  for  the  safety  and  comfort  of  the  animal, 
if  instinct  was  incapable  of  adapting  itself  in  any 
measure  to  circumstances;  if  it  had  been  so  very 
blind  an  impulse  as  not  to  have  any  discretion  ;  con- 
fined to  one  invariable  course  ;  and  of  no  use  in  any 
novelty  of  situation.  But  still  this  does  not  exalt  in- 
stinct to  the  rank  of  human  intelligence^  by  which 
the  Creator  has  placed  an  immeasurable  distance 
between  us  and  the  irrational  animals.  What  seems 
to  be  the  limit  of  instinct  ? 

A.  From  all  we  see  of  instinct,  it  appears  to  re- 
late principally  to  the  preservation  of  the  animal  and 
the  continuance  of  the  species.  It  enables  the  bird 
to  build  its  nest,  and  provide  for  its  young.  It  is 
a  guide  to  the  animal  in  given  instances.  Here  it  is 
infallible  :  and  here  it  ends.  It  may  be  a  reasoning 
faculty  to  a  certain  extent,  as  is  often  necessary,  and 
as  therefore  it  might  have  been  expected  from  the 
benevolence  of  the  Creator  it  would  have  been.  Still, 
whatever  it  be,  it  seems  always  to  have  been.  We  know 
of  no  improvement  in  instinct.  We  discover  no  capaci- 
ty of  advancement ;  no  ability  of  self  cultivation. 
Society  has  done  nothing,  apparently,  for  the  tribes 
of  instinct,  as  it  has  done  for  our  species.  The  ani- 
mals that  herd  together  remain  as  much  the  same, 


NATURAL    THEOLOOr.  185 

from  generation  to  generation,  as  the  most  solitary. 
We  discover  no  one  inclining  to  become  an  instructer 
to  its  own  kind.  They  exhibit  no  capacities  suscep- 
tible of  being  unfolded, .  perfected,  or  changed  by 
bringing  their  ideas  into  a  common  stock.  In  short, 
the  instinct  of  animals  seems  to  want  the  essential 
principle  of  voluntary  improvement^  and,  therefore, 
of  accauntability.  To  man  is  assigned  the  high  and 
noble  prerogative  of  an  intelligence  susceptible  of  an 
unbounded  progress  ;  intrusted  to  his  own  cultivation; 
capable  of  advancing  the  welfare  of  his  species  ;  and 
therefore  laying  the  foundation  of  his  moral  and  reli- 
gious obligations  to  that  Being  who  has  exalted  him 
to  a  rank  so  glorious. 

T.  You  have  now  attended  to  some  of  the  prin- 
cipal instances  of  Creative  wisdom  and  goodness  in 
the  animal  frame.  I  presume  you  have  noticed  the 
remark  of  Dr.  Paley,  that,  in  his  opinion,  "  a  designed 
and  studied  mechanism  is,  in  general,  more  evident 
in  animals  than  in  plants ;  and  that  it  is  unnecessary 
to  dwell  upon  a  weaker  argument,  when  a  stronger  is 
at  hand."  It  is  true,  plants  are  of  a  more  simple 
structure  than  animals  ;  and  there  is  certainly  no  oc- 
casion to  strengthen  the  proofs  of  a  Divine  and  benevo- 
lent Providence  you  have  already  related.  But  not  to 
overlook  a  department  of  nature  so  familiar  and  beau- 
tiful as  the  vegetable  kingdom,  you  may  mention 
what  you  remember  as  to  the  uses  and  designs  we 
discover  in  plants. 
^2 


186 


PLANTS. 


PLANTS. 

A.  Plants  the  most  valuable  for  food  are  the  mos  t 
abundant  and  easily  procured.  It  is  an  evident  de- 
sign also  of  a  kind  Providence,  that  plants  are  so 
variousj  as  to  be  adapted  to  all  changes  and  vicissi- 
tudes of  weather  and  climate — the  seasons  which  are 
less  favorable  to  some  are  propitious  to  others.  Di- 
versities of  soil — of  hill  and  valley — are  so  many 
different  advantages  for  different  vegetables,  and  for 
the  same  vegetable. 

It  agrees  with  the  same  view  of  the  subject  to  re- 
mark that  fruits  are  not,  (which  they  might  have 
been),  ready  altogether,  but  that  they  ripen  in  succes- 
sion throughout  a  great  part  of  the  year ;  some  in 
summer  ;  some  in  autumn  ;  and  that  some  require 
the  slow  maturation  of  the  winter,  and  supply  the 
spring.  The  most  hardy  of  all  plants  is  the  grass. 
It  will  bear  to  be  trodden  by  the  animals  which  have 
to  walk  over  the  fields  on  which  they  graze.  Of  all 
productions  of  the  earth  this  is  the  most  universal  • 
happily  for  the  numerous  tribes  whose  indispensable 
food  it  is,  and  which  could  neither  transport  it  them- 
selvts,  nor  for  which,  valuable  as  they  are  to  man? 
could  he  afford  to  procure  so  bulky  an  article  from 
any  considerable  distance. 

The  warmer  latitudes  abound  in  fruits  adapted  to 
allay  thirst  and  mitigate  heat ;  such  as  the  lime,  the 
lemon,    the    orange,    the  melon,    and    all  acid  and 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  187 

watery  vegetables,  in  peculiar  variety  and  perfection. 
Those  plants  and  fruits  particularly  suited  to  prevent 
jputridity,  which  is  one  of  the  greatest  dangers  of 
hot  climates,  are  remarkably  [abundant  in  such  cli- 
mates. These  are  the  spices,  the  pepper,  clove, 
&c.  and  other  aromatic  vegetables  which  are  obtain- 
ed from  the  warm  countries. 

^'  One  cannot  open  a  volume  of  travels,  but  some 
shrub  or  plant  is  made  known  to  us,  peculiarly  adapt- 
ed to  the  clime.  In  the  Brazils  a  cane  is  found, 
which  on  being  cut  below  a  joint,  dispenses  a  cool, 
pleasant  liquid,  which  instantly  quenches  the  most 
burning  thirst ;  and  Prince  Maximilian,  when  travel- 
ing in  America  in  1816,  quenched  his  thirst  by  drink- 
ing the  water  found  within  the  leaves  of  the  bro- 
melia." 

Mr.  Elphinstone  says,  the  water  melon,  the  most 
juicy  of  fruits,  is  found  in  profusion  amid  the  arid 
deserts  of  western  Africa  ;  and  adds,  *'  that  it  is  really 
a  subject  of  wonder  to  see  a  melon,  three  or  four 
feet  in  circumference,  growing  from  a  stalk,  as  slen- 
der as  that  of  a  common  melon,  in  the  dry  sand  of 
the  desert." 

Mr.  Barrow  thus  describes  the  curious  vegetable, 
fhe  pitcher  plant,  "  To  the  foot  stalk  of  each  leaf 
^s  attached  a  bag,  girt  round  with  a  lid.  Contrary  to 
the  usual  effect,  this  lid  opens  in  wet  and  dewy  hours, 
and,  when  the  pitcher  is  full,  the  lid  closes ;  when 
this  store  of  moisture  is  absorbed  by  the  plant,  the 
lid  opens  again," — (Thoughts  on  Domestic  Educa- 
tion.) 


188  PLANTS. 

"  The  food  afforded  by  the  soil  in  each  climate," 
says  a  late  philosophical  author,  ''  is  admirably  adapt- 
ed to  the  maintenance  of  the  organic  constitution  in 
health,  and  to  the  supply  of  the  muscular  energy 
requisite  for  the  particular  wants  of  the  situation. 
In  the  Arctic  Regions  no  farinaceous  Jood  ripens  ; 
but  on  putting  the  question  to  Dr.  Richardson,  how 
he  accustomed  to  the  bread  and  vegetables  of  the 
teraperarate  regions,  was  able  to  endure  the  pure 
animal  diet,  which  formed  his  only  support  on  his  ex- 
pedition to  the  shores  of  the  Polar  Sea,  along  with 
Capt.  Franklin,  he  replied,  that  the  effects  of  the 
extreme  dry  cold  to  which  they  were  exposed,  living, 
as  they  did,  constantly  in  the  open  air,  was  to  pro- 
duce a  desire  for  the  most  stimulating  food,  they 
could  obtain  ;  that  bread  in  such  a  climate  was  not 
only  710^  desired,  but  comparatively  impotent  as  an 
article  of  diet ;  that  pure  animal  food,  and  the  fatter 
the  better,  was  the  only  sustenance  that  maintained  the 
tone  of  the  corporeal  system,  but  that  when  it  was 
abundant,  (and  the  quantity  required  was  much  grea- 
ter than  in  milder  latitudes),  delightful  vigor  and 
buoyancy  of  mind  and  body  were  enjoyed,  that  ren- 
dered life  highly  agreeable.''  Here,  therefore,  we 
see  an  admirable  adaptation  of  the  food  to  the  cli- 
mate ; — ^that  while  vegetable  productions  are  few  in 
these  cold  regions,  the  oily  animal  substances  are 
remarkably  abundan. 

T.  Do  we  discover  any  remarkable  appearance 
of  design  in  the  structure  of  plants  ? 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  189 

A.  Every  plant  furnishes  occasion  for  admiring  the 
wisdom  of  the  Creator.  The  seed  and  the  fruit  are  the 
most  important  parts.  The  seed  is  wanted  to  repro- 
duce the  plant ;  and  it  is  generally  for  the  fruit  the 
plant  is  useful.  We  are  first  to  observe  the  particu- 
lar provisions  which  are  made  for  both  the  seed  and 
the  fruit  in  the  structure  of  the  plant. 

T.  This  is  an  interesting  portion  of  the  subject, 
and  you  may  be  a  little  particular  ;  first,  as  to  the 
parts  which  produce  the  fruit, 

A,  They  are  called  by  botanists  the  pointals  and 
stamens.  They  are  the  small  fine  threads  we  gener- 
ally see  inside  the  flower.  The  pointal  is  commonly 
situated  in  the  middle,  terminating  in  a  knob  at  the 
top,  which  is  called  the  stigma,  and,  in  another  at  the 
bottom,  which  is  termed  the  germ,  and  which  is  to 
become  the  fruit,  and  contain  the  seed.  The  stamens 
usually  surround  the  pointal  in  a  circle  ;  bearing  on 
their  upper  extremities  what  are  called  the  anthers, 
which  produce  a  dust,  that  is  named  the  farina  or 
pollen.  It  is  that  yellow  powder  which  comes  off 
upon  the  finger  in  a  full  blown  flower.  Its  use  is  to 
lodge  upon  the  pointal,  where  it  produces  a  certain 
effect,  which  is  found  to  be  necessary  for  the  forma- 
tion of  the  fruit.  Remove  this  dust  and  the  plant 
will  produce  nothing. 

Whatever  the  form  and  situation  of  these  curious 
parts  of  the  plant,  without  which  it  would  be  barren, 
we  discover  an  extraordinary  degree  of  care  exhibit- 
ed by  nature,  to  preserve  them.  First,  they  are 
not  exposed,  till  it  is  necessary,  or  till  their  office  is 


190  PLANTS. 

wanted,  which  is  only  when  the  plant  is  reaching  its 
full  growth,  and  then  they  perform  their  duty  in 
a  very  short  time.  Till  this  period,  they  are  careful- 
ly and  curiously  wrapt  up  and  protected,  as  we  see  in 
the  bud  of  a  rose  or  the  sheathe  of  a  corn  plant. 

The  huds  of  some  trees,  such  as  the  balm  of  Gilead 
and  the  horse  chestnut,  are  uncommonly  large  during 
the  winter,  and  are  then  covered  over  with  a  resinous 
or  gurhmy  substance.  We  behold  Creative  design 
and  wisdom  in  this  arrai^gement.  In  all  these  trees, 
the  pointals  and  stamens  are  very  considerably  advan- 
ced when  the  winter  overtakes  them.  The  unusual 
size  of  the  buds  is  adapted  to  this  circumstance. 
*^  They  are  wrapped  up  in  these  buds  with  a  con^- 
pactness  which  no  art  can  imitate.  This  is  not  all. 
The  bud  itself  is  inclosed  in  scales — which  scales  are 
formed  from  the  remains  of  past  leaves  and  the  rudi- 
ments of  future  ones.  Neither  is  this  the  whole. 
In  the  coldest  climates,  a  third  provision  is  added  by 
the  bud  having  a  coat  of  gum  or  rosin,  which  being 
congealed,  resists  the  strongest  frost.  On  the  ap- 
proach of  warm  weather,  the  gum  is  softened,  and 
ceases  to  be  a  hindrance  to  the  leaves  and  flowers. 
All  this  care  is  a  part  of  that  system  of  provisions 
which  has  for  its  object  the  consummation  and  per- 
fection of  the  seeds. 

The  poppy,  while  it  is  grgwing,  hangs  down  its 
head,  and  in  this  position  it  is  impenetrable  by  rain. 
When  the  head  has  acquired  its  size,  and  is  ready  to 
open,  the  stalk  erects  itself  for  the  purpose,  it  should 
seem,  of  presenting  the  flower,   and   with  the   flow- 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  191 

er,  the  seed  and  fruit  parts  to  the  genial  Influence 
of  the  sun's  rays.  '^  This  always  struck  me,"  adds 
Dr.  Paley,  "  as  a  curious  property,  and  specifically 
as  well  as  originally  provided  for  in  the  constitution  of 
the  plant ;  for  if  the  stemhe  only  henthy  the  weight 
of  the  head,  how  comes  it  to  straighten  itself,  when 
the  head  is  is  the  heaviest  ?  These  instances  shew 
the  attention  of  nature,  he  observes,  to  the  prin- 
cipal object,  the  safety  and  maturation  of  the  parts 
upon  which  the  seed  depends. 

Some  plants,  as  the  pea,  the  clover,  &;c.  have 
a  vane  belonging  to  the  flower,  which  the  w^ind  turns 
in  such  a  manner,  as  always  to  keep  the  more  delicate 
parts  from  facing  the  blast,  like  the  contrivance  we  often 
see  on  the  tops  of  chimnies,  to  prevent  the  wind 
from  blowing  upon  the  passage  where  the  smoke  is 
discharged.  The  flowers  of  some  plants,  as  the  dande- 
lion and  many  others,  always  shut  up  at  night ;  others, 
like  the  English  sunflower,  have  the  singular  property 
of  turning  round,  so  as  to  follow  the  sun,  and  afibrd 
the  seed  and  fruit  parts  the  constant  advantage  of 
his  rays. 

T.  Is  there  any  thing  in  the  cup  or  leaf  part  of 
the  flower  which  evinces  design  ? 

A.  It  affords  the  advantage  of  a  wall  or  a  shelter 
around  the  dehcate  fruit  parts  within.  Its  shajpe  is 
generally  well  adapted  to  reflect  the  rays  of  the  sun 
toward  the  middle,  where  these  parts  are  situated  ; 
and  the  high  polish  on  the  inside,  must  contribute  to 
the  same  efiect.  It  is  observable,  that  it  decays  and 
falls  off,  and  is  the  only  part  of  the  plant  that  does,  as 


192  PLANTS. 

soon  as  the  styles  and  stamens  have  performed  their 
office,  and  the  delicate  embryo  of  the  fruit  has 
made  a  little  progress  in  its  growth. 

T.  Is  there  any  thing  to  oblige  the  pollen  or 
dust,  which  is  necessary  for  the  formation  of  the 
fruit,  to  light  upon  the  pointal  where  its  office  is  to 
be  performed  ? 

A.  The  provision  for  this  purpose  is  remarkable. 
In  the  first  place,  the  pointal  is  generally  in  the  mid- 
dle, the  most  favorable  situation  for  receiving  the 
dust  from  the  stamens  which  stand  around  it.  Sec- 
ondly, it  is  usually  shorter  than  the  stamens,  so  that 
the  pollen  more  readily  falls  upon  it.  Sometimes  the 
head  of  the  flower  hangs  down,  as  in  the  Crown  Im- 
perial. In  this  flower,  therefore,  the  pointal  ought  to 
be  the  longest,  for  the  dust  to  catch  upon  it  in  its 
descent  from  the  stamens.  We  find  upon  examina- 
tion, the  usual  relative  length  of  the  pointal  is  here 
actually  inverted,  and  is  greater  than  that  of  the  sta- 
mens. It  is  generally  the  same  in  all  the  drooping 
flowers. 

In  some  flowers  the  stamens  lean  over,  one  or  two 
at  a  time,  on  the  pointal,  retiring  after  they  have  shed 
their  dust  and  giving  place  to  others.  This  is  very 
striking  in  the  Garden  Rue.  The  five  stamens  of 
the  Cockscomb,  ( Celosia)  are  connected  at  their 
lower  part  by  a  membranous  web  which  in  moist 
weather  is  relaxed,  and  the  stamens  spread  for  shel- 
ter under  the  leaves  of  the  flower  ;  but,  when  the  air 
is  dry,  the  contraction  of  the  membrane  brings  them 
together,  to  scatter  their  pollen  in  the  centre  of  the 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  193 

flower.  There  is  a  similar  fact  with  respect  to  the 
beautiful  shrub  which  many  call  the  sheep  kill  or 
lamb  Icill ;  botanists,  the  Jcalmia.  The  ends  of  the 
stamens  are  bent  back  and  protected  in  little  depres- 
sions upon  the  inside  of  the  cup  of  the  flower,  until,  at 
the  proper  time,  they  suddenly  liberate  themselves 
from  their  confinement,  and  dash  the  pollen  with 
great  force  upon  the  pointal.  In  the  barberry  hush, 
{Berberis),  the  stamens  shelter  themselves  under 
the  leaves  of  the  flowers,  whose  tips  bend  over  a  lit- 
tle to  receive  them,  till  some  little  insect  in  search  of 
honey,  happens  to  touch  them  at  the  bottom,  when  they 
dart  forward,  like  a  sprung  trap,  and  discharge  their 
dust  upon  the  pointal  in  the  same  way, — and  this 
operation  may  be  repeated  in  the  same  flower.  Dif- 
ferent species  of  flowers  float  entirely  under  water, 
often  at  some  considerable  depth,  when  they  rise  near 
the  surface,  and  throw  up  their  flower  spikes  above 
it,  and  sinking  afterwards  to  ripen  and  sow  their  seeds 
at  the  bottom.  ^ 

There  are  some  plants  in  which  the  pollen  could 
not  easily  perform  its  office,  if  it  were  not  for  a  spe- 
cial provision.  In  the  Indian  corn  the  pointals,  (or 
silk,)  are  quite  remote  from  the  stamens  (or  the  bran- 
ches of  the  spindles)  ;  and  not  only  so,  the  broad 
leaves  of  the  pi  ant  would  be  likely  to  intercept  the 
dust  and  prevent  it  from  falling  in  the  right  p  lace  : 
in  some  trees  and  vegetables  the  pointals  are  upon 
one,  and  the  stamens  upon  another,  as  in  the  pine, 
nut,  mulberry,   he.     There    is    a   provision    against 


194  PLANTS. 

this  difficulty ;  and  it  forms  one  of  the  most  curious 
facts  in  botany.  The  pollen  is  light  and  floats  off 
easily  into  the  air  so  as  to  escape  obstructions  or 
pass  from  plant  to  plant.  It  is  done  in  this  man- 
ner. Every  particle  of  the  pollen  contains  a  very 
minute  quantity  of  what  the  chemist  terms  hy- 
drogen gas,  which  is  much  lighter  than  air,  and 
which,  for  that  reason,  is  used  in  inflating  balloons. 
Now  to  steer  these  little  particles  to  their  destin- 
ed places  there  is  said  to  be  an  attraction  between 
the  dust  and  the  part  for  which  it  is  designed  ;  and 
that  as  soon  as  it  lodges  upon  this  part,  the  balloon 
bursts,  the  hydrogen  escapes,  and  the  dust  remains 
fixed  upon  the  pointal  where  there  is  a  gummy 
substance  to  hold  it  fast. 

B.  Another  beautiful  instance  in  which  our  most 
ingenious  arts  have  a  more  perfect  precedent  and 
'pattern  in  the  works  of  Creation  !  Here,  it  seems, 
we  not  only  have  the  balloon,  but  what  our  aero- 
nauts have  yet  to  discover,  how  to  direct  its 
course. 

A.  In  the  seeds  of  plants,  we  have  to  notice  the 
gre  at  principle  we  see  in  all  the  works  of  nature,  that 
every  thing  is  provided  far  with  an  attention  propor- 
tionate to  its  importance.  If  the  seed  should  fail, 
the  plant  cannot  be  reproduced.  We  may  here 
therefore  admire,  that  this  part  of  every  vegetable 
discovers  the  most  care  for  its  perfection  and  preser- 
vation. We  find  it  in  shells,  stones,  husks,  pods  ; 
always  cased  and  defended  by  something  hard,  so 
that  however  rudely  we  may  handle  it,  the  miniature 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  195 

plant  within  remains  unhurt.  As  if  endowed  with 
a  knowledge  of  the  tender  embryo  it  contains,  the 
seed  will  never  expose  it  by  opening  in  any  situation 
where  the  little  root  would  want  warmth  and  mois- 
ture to  nourish  it. 

We  have  this  exemplified  in  the  backwarclness  of 
seeds  in  a  dry,  cold  spring.  The  seed,  as  we  may 
-eay,  is  here  often  wiser  than  the  planter ;  who 
regrets  the  tardiness  of  the  germination,  without 
reflecting  that  any  precipitancy  in  this  particular 
would  be  fatal  to  the  plant.  It  is  an  admirable 
constitution  of  seeds  which  we  can  only  refer  to  de- 
sign, that  they  are  invariably  slow  in  opening  when 
the  safety  of  the  plant  requires  they  should  not 
begin  to  shoot  shortly  after  they  naturally  fall;  as 
is  the  case  with  nuts  and  many  othciv^,  which  are 
dropped  too  late  for  the  plant  to  become  suffi- 
ciently hardy  to  endure  the  cold  of  winter. 

From  one  part  of  the  seed,  the  sprout  comes  forth 
which  is  to  form  the  stem  ;  and  from  another  the 
sprouts  which  are  to  become  the  roots.  This  provi- 
sion is  a  curiosity  of  vegetable  instinct ;  though  some 
have  thought  the  attraction  of  the  earth,  or  gravita- 
tion has  much  to  do  with  it.  But  it  is  to  be  admi- 
red, however  accounted  for.  For  deposit  the  seed  in 
the  ground  in  any  manner  we  may,  the  stem  comes 
up,  the  root  goes  down.  This  buisness  is  not  left 
to  our  care ;  that  is  to  say,  what  we  could  not  easily 
do  if  we  would,  plant  every  seed  in  a  particular 
position,  is  rendered  unnecessary  by  the  wise  provi- 
sion of  the  Creator. 


196 


PLANTS. 


The  same  providence  attends  the  plant  in  the 
different  stages  of  its  growth.  The  provisions  for 
supporting  the  plant,  and  giving  it  the  benefit  of  sun 
and  rain  are  a  manifest  display  of  purpose  and 
wisdorti.  The  stems  are  made  strong  and  erect  for 
this  purpose,  with  one  large  class  of  exceptions,  such 
as  the  honey-suckle,  grape  vine,  &c.  These  are  fur- 
nished with  a  substitute  viz.  the  tendrils,  by  which 
they  are  enabled  to  climb  up.  One  might  be  chal- 
lenged to  imagine  a  clearer  instance  of  design  than 
this  ;  thus  there  is  not  one  tree  or  shrub  or  herb 
which  is  able  to  stand  alone,  that  is  furnished  with 
a  tendril.  "  We  may  make  only  so  simple  a  com- 
parison as  that  between  a  pea  and  a  bean.  Why 
does  the  pea  put  forth  tendrils,  the  bean  not ;  but  be- 
cause the  stalk  of  the  pea  cannot  support  itself  w^ith- 
out  them,  the  stalk  of  the  bean  can  ;  we  may  add 
also  a  circumstance  not  to  be  overlooked,  that,  in 
the  pea  tribe  these  clasps  to  do  not  make  their  ap- 
pearance till  they  are  wanted ;  till  the  plant  has 
grown  to  a  height  to  stand  in  need  of  support.  " 

Plants  are  generally  more  or  less  improved  from 
their  natural  state,  by  cultivation.  Some  acquire  new 
fragrance  and  beauty.  In  others,  the  fruit  is  render- 
ed more  wholesome,  delicious  and  abundant.  The 
rose,  by  being  transplanted  from  its  native  fields,  has 
been  changed  from  a  single  flower  into  one  of  the 
most  magnificent  ornaments  of  our  gardens.  The 
apple,  pear,  &c.  on  the  contrary,  have  been  improv- 
ed principally  in  the  fruit.  In  this  singular  differ- 
ence in  the  effects  of  cultivation  in  different  plants, 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY. 


197 


for  which  there  is  no  natural  reason  we  know  of,  we 
can  plainly  see  the  goodness  of  Providence.  The 
case  is  this :  the  improvement  produced  by  cultivation 
in  the  beauty  of  flowers,  chiefly  consists  in  increas- 
ing the  number  of  the  flower  leaves,  botanists  term 
them  the  petals,  which  in  those  flowers,  called 
double  flowers  occupy  the  cup  designed  for  the  fruit 
bearing  parts,  that  is,  the  pointal  and  stamens,  so  that 
the  improved  beauty  is  not  obtained  but  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  fruit  and  the  seed.  The  design  intended 
to  be  noticed  is  this  ;  that  when  it  is  the  jlo^jer 
which  is  changed,  we  shall  find  the  general  distinc- 
tion is,  that  it  takes  place  in  those  plants  whose  prin- 
cipal value  to  us  is  their  beauty  ;  while  fruit  trees 
preserve  the  simplicity  of  the  flower  ;  and  the  im- 
provement is  confined  to  the  fruit  under  every  degree 
of  culture.  It  would  be  a  small  compensation  for 
the  barrenness  of  our  orchards,  that  the  flowers  were 
double  in  the  spring.  Why  in  the  rose  bush,  cul- 
tivation doubles  the  flower,  and  the  apple,  (the  red 
bud),  is  not  improved;  and  in  the  orchard  trees,  it 
improves  the  apple,  and  leaves  the  flower  single,  can 
only  be  attributed  to  that  beneficent  design,  which 
in  every  thing  has  consulted  the  greatest  degree  of 
utility.  The  original  potatoe  was  introduced  into 
Europe  from  the  mountains  of  Peru,  and  has  become 
infinitely  more  valuable,  as  an  article  of  food,  by  cul- 
tivation. Here  the  root  is  improved  ;  but  the  flower 
remains  as  simple  as  in  the  state  of  nature.  A  more 
beautiful  potatoe  field  would  poorly  reward  us  for  the 
b2 


198 


PLANTS. 


loss  of  one  the  most  valuable  vegetables.  The  same 
is  true  cf  the  esculent  roots,  the  carrot,  parsnip,  and 
many  others. 

B.  How  striking  an  evidence  of  benevolent  de- 
sign 1  Every  plant  is  made  to  improve  for  the  bene- 
fit of  the  cultivator  ;  and  laws  apparently  the  most 
arbitrary  are  estabhshed,  by  vdiich  the  Armc/ of  im- 
provement is  such  as  would  be  most  for  our  advant- 
age. 

T.  What  are  the  properties  of  plants  in  which  we 
discover  a  wise  and  benevolent  Providence  ? 

A.  Besides  nutritive,  medicinal,  and  ornamental 
plants,  which  contribute  to  our  benefit  and  enjoyment 
in  innumerable  ways,  all  plants  exert  a  salubrious  in- 
fluence on  the  air.  The  air  is  found  to  undergo  a 
chemical  change  by  every  breath  we  inhale,  every 
fire  we  kindle,  which  unfits  it  for  respiration.  It  loses 
a  certain  principle  necessary  to  support  animal  life. 
At  the  same  time  its  purity  is  impaired  by  the  con- 
tinued decay  of  animal  and  vegetable  substances. — 
Amid  all  these  causes  which  operate  to  diminish  the 
purity  of  the  air,  nature  has  provided  the  plant  as  a 
rjstorative.  It  restores  the  salubrious  quality  which 
has  been  removed  ;  \\,  removes  the  pestilential  quality 
which  has  been  imparted. 

B.  One  would  suppose  that  all  these  had  proper- 
ties could  not  be  removed  by  the  plant,  without  its 
suffering  for  the  friendly  office  which  it  performs. 

A.  The  plant  derives  nourishment  from  the  air 
which  has  been  contaminated  by  the  animal ;  while  it 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  199 

exhales  in  return  the  vital  principle  which  the  animal 
wants. 

T.  Such  used  to  be  the  theory.  But  late  expe- 
riments have  given  rise  to  some  different  views  upon 
this  subject. 

A.  Agitation  ivith  ivater  is  one  of  the  restoring 
causes  which  the  wisdom  of  the  Creator  has  provided 
to  purify  the  air.  *'  The  foulest  air  shaken  in  a  bot- 
tle with  water  for  a  sufficient  length  of  time,  recovers 
a  great  degree  of  its  purity.  Here  we  see  the  salu- 
tary effects  of  storm  and  tempests.  The  yesty  waves, 
which  confound  the  heaven  and  the  sea,  are  doing 
the  very  thing  which  is  done  in  the  bottle.  Nothing 
can  be  of  greater  importance  to  the  living  creation, 
than  the  salubrity  of  the  atmosphere.  It  ought  to 
reconcile  us  therefore  to  these  agitations  of  the  ele- 
ments, of  which  we  are  apt  to  deplore  the  conse- 
quences, to  know,  that  they  tend  powerfully  to  restore 
to  the  air  that  purity  which  many  causes  are  continu- 
ally impairing. 

B.  Hence  I  suppose  that  delightful  sweetness  and 
freshness  of  the  air  after  a  shower. 

T.  What  are  some  other  of  the  principal  marks 
of  design  we  discover  in  the  elements  ? 

A.  Without  air,  neither  vegetable  nor  animal  life 
could  be  supported.  Water  could  not  be  carried  up 
from  the  earth,  nor  supported  in  the  form  of  clouds, 
nor  when  descending,  could  be  distributed  in  dew 
and  rain  drops.  Without  the  air  to  reflect  the  rays 
of  light,  the  instant  we  turned  our  back  upon  the  sun, 
we  should  be  immersed  in  total  darkness. 


200  PLANTS. 

In  water,  it  demands  our  gratitude,  that  the  most 
necessary  liquid  is  the  most  abundant  and  most  easily- 
obtained,  and  has  no  taste  of  its  own  either  to  offend, 
or  satiate ;  or  to  effect  the  flavor  of  any  thing  uni- 
ted with  it.  One  of  most  remarkable  circumstances 
in  which  we  discover  design  in  the  properties  of  wa- 
ter, is  the  manner  in  which  it  is  affected  hy  frost.  It 
is  a  provision  in  the  constitution  of  this  most  useful 
element,  to  preserve  it  from  the  sudden  effects  of  hard 
frosts ;  that  is,  in  those  places  where  it  is  of  the 
greatest  importance  to  us,  viz.  the  deeper  waters, 
such  as  wells,  rivers,  bays,  &ic.  A  short  account  of 
the  matter  may  be  this.  Water  will  not  freeze,  till  it 
is  cooled  down  to  thirty-two  degrees  of  the  common 
thermometer.  But  water  is  heavist  when  at  the 
temperature  of  about  forty  degrees.  The  conse- 
quence is  plain.  When  the  surface  of  the  water  is 
cooled  by  a  cold  wind  or  a  sharp  air,  to  the  temper- 
ature of  forty  degrees,  it  does  not  wait  to  be  cooled 
down  to  the  freezing  point,  which  is  eight  deegrees 
lower,  and  to  which  it  would  sooa  be  brought  if  it 
remained  above,  exposed  to  the  cold  ;  but  being  the 
heaviest,  it  immediately  sinJcs,  and  suffers  a  warmer 
portion  below  to  take  its  place  This,  also,  when 
reduced  to  the  same  temperature  of  40,  repeats  the 
process  ;  and  thus  the  whole  quantity  must  come  to 
the  surface  and  be  brought  to  this  particular  degree 
of  cold,  which  is  eight  degrees  above  the  freezing 
point,  before  the  circulation  will  stop.  After  the 
whole  mass  has  thus  been  brought  to  the  heaviest 
weight  w^hich   water  can  acquire,  then  the  surface 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  201 

will  remain  stationary,  and  the  cold  wind  or  air  will 
soon  reduce  it  to  the  state  of  ice.  The  time  necessary 
for  this  circulation  to  be  completed,  must  depend  on 
the  depth  of  the  water  ;  and  in  deep  pieces  of  water, 
it  is  sufficiently  long  to  ensure  them  from  being  fro- 
zen over,  unless  the  cold  should  be  continued  for 
a  considerable  period. 

To  this  provision  we  are  indebted  for  the  use  of 
our  wells,  fountains,  and  navigable  waters  in  cold 
weather.  They  would  otherwise  be  closed  up  with 
the  first  frosty  night.  The  whole  fact  is  one  of 
modern  discovery,  Dr.  Johnson  was  led  to  doubt  that 
a  small  but  very  deep  lake  in  the  highlands  of  Scot- 
land, was  always  open  in  the  hardest  winters,  while 
other  lakes  in  the  neighborhood  were  frozen  over. 
If  the  fact  were  true,  he  thought  the  phenomenon 
must  be  owing  to  the  water  being  unusually  sheltered. 

"  For  where  a  wide  surface,"  he  observes, "  is 
exposed  to  the  full  influence  of  a  freezing  atmos- 
phere, I  know  not  why  the  depth  should  keep  it 
open.  "  The  difficulty  to  his  mind  of  conceiving 
how  depth  should  protect  the  surface,  may  still  fur- 
ther impress  us  with  the  wisdom  of  the  arrangement 
by  which  the  effect  is  produced. 

Without  fire,  all  substances  would  be  converted 
into  one  solid  mass  ;  fire  being  the  principle  of  fluid- 
ity in  water  and  every  other  liquid  in  nature.  The 
very  air  itself  would  become  solid.  Fire  is  the 
universal  instrument  of  all  the  arts  and  all  the  neces- 
saries of  life  ;  and  here  we  are  called  to  admire,  that 
fire  and  light,  in  the  absence  of  the  sun,  are  obtain- 


202  ASTRONOMY. 

able,  and  so  easily,  from  a  variety  of  sources,  such  as 
wood,  oil,  and  all  combustible  bodies  : — and  what  is 
more  observable,  since  we  could  not  have  conceived 
of  its  possibilty,  this  diffusive  and  destructive  ele- 
ment of  fire  is  so  quietly  and  safely  concealed  in  all 
these  substances,  till  we  have  occasion  to  rpake  use 
of  it. 


ASTRONOMY. 


T.  It  becomes  most  interesting  to  inquire  whether 
we  are  able  to  pursue  the  same  system  of  design  into 
the  remoter  parts  of  the  universe  which  fall  within 
our  observation. 

A.  We  are  not  indeed  able  to  pursue  our  re- 
searches into  the  heavenly  bodies,  as  into  the  struc- 
ture of  a  plant  or  animal ;  but  the  knowledge  we  have 
is  sufficient  to  convince  us  they  are  a  continuation  of 
the  same  skilful  and  beneficent  contrivance  we  find  to 
be  so  perfect  in  the  objects  we  are  able  to  examine; 
that  is,  to  examine  so  nearly  as  to  trace  the  minute 
relations  and  correspondency  of  parts. 

T.  You  may  mention  some  of  the  most  conspicu- 
ous marks  of  design  and  wisdom  in  the  Solar  System. 

A.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  a  plain  manifestation  of 
design  and  of  a  designing  Creator,  that  the  Sun  is  situ- 
ated in  the  centre  ;  and  that  the  earth  and  planets 
are  disposed  around  the  orb  by  which  they  are  warm- 


NATUBAL    THEOLOGY.  203 

ed  and  enlightened ;  that  is  to  say,  that  the  bodies 
which  require  the  benefit  of  his  illumination  and  heat, 
are  placed  in  the  most  favorable  position  for  receiving 
them.  We  know  of  no  natural  cause  why  the  central 
body  must  be  luminous.  We  see  the  wisdom  of  the 
arrangement ;  but  here  our  knowledge  ends. 

T.  But  there  is  more  to  excite  an  admiration  of 
the  wisdom  exhibited  in  this  stupendous  part  of  the 
fabric  of  the  universe. 

A.  In  the  revolution  of  the  earth  and  planets 
around  the  sun  we  behold  an  example  of  mechanism 
on  a  scale  exceeding  our  imagination  ;  but  still,  where- 
in we  perceive  manifest  contrivance ;  as  much  as  in 
the  motion  of  a  watch  or  the  turning  of  a  joint. — 
The  planets  revolve  by  means  of  two  forces.  The 
one  is  the  force  of  attraction  which  the  sun  exerts 
upon  them,  like  that  of  steel  upon  a  magnet.  It  is 
termed  the  force  oi  gravitation :  and  if  they  were  to 
comply  with  this  force  only,  they  would  rush  to  the 
sun  and  be  consumed.  The  other  force  is  one  which 
continually  impels  them  to  move  off  from  the  sun, 
like  a  ball  from  a  sling ;  and  if  they  had  obeyed  this 
force  alone,  they  would  long  since  have  withdrawn 
from  their  orbits  into  the  depths  of  infinite  space. — 
The  whole  is  perfectly  illustrated  by  the  whirling 
round  of  a  ball  fastened  to  the  end  of  a  string.  The 
ball  is  drawn  to  the  hand  by  the  string  ;  this  is  one 
force  ;  the  motion  of  the  ball  impels  it  to  recede  from 
the  hand,  so  that  if  the  string  should  separate,  the 
ball  would  fly  away.  This  is  the  other  force.  Both 
acting  together,  compel  the  ball  to  revolve  round  the 


304 


ASTRONOMY. 


hand.  In  the  planetary  revolutions  there  are  the 
same  two  forces  ;  the  only  difference  being,  that  the 
attraction  of  the  sun  upon  the  planets  is  a  substitute 
for  the  string. 

B.  From  how  simple  powers  are  the  most  stupen- 
dous effects  produced  in  nature  !  What  an  amazing 
conception,  that  the  simplest  toy  of  a  child  compre- 
hends the  whole  mechanism  of  worlds  all  in  rapid 
motion,  yet  calm,  regular  and  harmonious. 

T.  But  this  admirable  mechanism  is  not  to  be  un- 
derstood from  so  simple  an  illustration  as  this,  except 
in  some  very  general  points  of  view.  There  are  im- 
portant respects  in  which  it  fails  to  convey  any  ade- 
quate idea  of  the  wisdom  exhibited  in  the  planetary 
frame.  The  earth  and  planets  are  held  in  their  orbits 
by  the  attraction  of  the  Sun.  This  is  true.  But  the 
attraction-  is  not  peculiar  to  the  Sun.  It  is  an  attrac- 
tion which  all  bodies  exert  upon  one  another  in  pro- 
portion to  their  quantities  of  matter.  The  sun  being 
by  far  the  largest  body  in  the  system,  possesses  the  most 
of  this  attractive  power,  on  account  of  his  superior 
magnitude.  And  all  the  planets  exert  the  same  kind 
of  attraction  upon  one  another,  though  in  a  less  de- 
gree. If  we  were  to  fasten  a  number  of  loadstones 
to  separate  strings,  and  whirl  them  around  another 
larger  loadstone  in  our  hand,  this  would  resemble  the 
sun  and  planets ; — but  then  while  the  loadstones  re- 
volved they  would  be  liable,  from  their  natural  attrac- 
tion, to  rush  together  and  form  one  solid  mass.  What 
is  to  prevent  the  planets  from  doing  the  same,  and 
involving  the  whole  system  in  destruction  ? 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  2(fe 

A.  We  have  here  new  occasion  to  acknowledge 
the  Creator's  wisdom  in  preserving  the  harmony  of 
the  system  by  one  of  the  most  wonderful  laws  which 
he  has  impressed  upon  matter.  It  is  this.  While 
the  earth  and  all  planets  are  continually  exerting  an 
amazing  force  of  attraction  upon  one  another,  like  so 
many  loadstones,  yet  the  mathematician  can  demon- 
strate they  shall  never  rush  together,  nor  materially 
disturb  their  respective  revolutions,  provided  a  few 
conditions  exist.  One  condition  necessary  is,  that 
the  attraction  be  weaker  the  farther  they  are  apart ; 
and  not  only  so, — but  exactly  four  times  weaker, 
when  the  distance  is  doubled.  Upon  this  condition 
and  a  few  others,  but  this  is  the  principal,  he  is  able 
to  demonstrate,  without  observing  the  heavens,  with- 
out seeing  how  the  fact  in  reality  is,  there, — that  no 
danger  exists  from  the  mutual  attraction  of  the  heav- 
enly bodies ;  draw  upon  one  another  as  long  and  as 
powerfully  as  they  are  able ;  change  their  relative 
positions  as  they  can ;  now  retreating,  now  advan- 
cing; here  the  matter  must  end;  they  can  never 
touch,  they  can  never  permanently  disturb  each  oth- 
er's separate  and  orderly  revolutions.  Now,  wonderful 
as  it  must  seem,  all  these  conditions  exist  in  the  solar 
system  ;  and  among  others  the  main  and  most  impor- 
tant one,  to  wit,  the  force  of  planetary  attraction  is 
exactly  four  times  weaker  at  twice  the  distance. 

Why  not  three  times,  or  five  times,  or  in  any  other 
proportion  ?  Of  the  infinite  number  of  possible  pro- 
portions, had  it  been  any  other  than  the  one  actually 
s 


^06  CONCLUSION. 

adopted,  it  has  been  demonstrated,  so  far  as  the  in- 
vestigation has  been  carried,  that  the  consequences 
would  have  been  fatal.  But  still,  what  has  established 
this  particular  law  of  the  attractive  power?  As  an 
eminent  mathematician  observed,  we  know  of  no  rea- 
son, but  that  it  was  so  established. 

T.  It  is  sufficient  for  our  present  views  to  notice 
a  few  only  of  the  connected  instances  of  design  we 
perceive  in  nature,  and  which  stamp  one  united  im- 
press of  the  Supreme  Creator  upon  every  object;  to 
see  every  thing  concurring  in  the  same  demonstration 
of  his  Almighty  agency  ;  and  announcing  the  Eternal 
Power  of  whose  perfections  we  have  been  privileged 
with  such  glorious  manifestations.  I  shall  not  pursue 
the  consideration  of  all  the  particular  attributes  of  the 
Deity  which  are  evidenced ;  such  as  his  Unity,  Eter- 
nity, Immensity,  Omnipotence,  and  Infinite  Wisdom ; 
but  will  now  ask  what  is  the  grand  conclusion  we  ob- 
tain from  a  collected  view  of  those  innumerable  traces 
of  design  we  discover  in  the  works  of  God.  To  what 
end  does  design  appear  to  be  directed  ? 

A.  A  good  and  benevolent  end.  In  countless  in- 
stances we  are  enabled  immediately  to  perceive  this 
end  ;  and  the  presumption  is  overwhelming,  that  it  is 
universal,  and  that  all  creation  is  a  display  of  the  infi- 
nite goodness  of  its  gracious  and  adorable  Author. 

Whatever  we  observe  in  nature,  which  lies  within  a 
compass  so  suited  to  our  knowledge,  that  is,  so  limited 
a  compass,  that  we  can  feel  satisfied  that  we  un- 
derstand it ;  that  we  see  the  end  to  be  obtained,  and 
the  means  suitable  to  be  employed  ;  in  every  such  in- 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  207 

Stance,  we  discover  a  useful  and  beneficent  arrange- 
ment actually  adopted,  and  no  other.  In  examining 
the  human  frame  ;  the  mechanism  of  the  bones  and 
muscles ;  the  organs  for  nourishing  the  system ;  the 
admirable  covering  by  vi^hich  it  is  shielded,  and  pre- 
served in  an  agreeable  and  healthy  temperature  ; — 
here  is  a  case  within  our  comprehension.  We  see 
the  objects  to  be  effected ;  and  we  understand  in  a 
good  degree,  the  means  which  are  necessary  to  effect 
them.  We  see  that  a  locomotive  animal,  an  animal 
that  must  move  in  order  to  subsist,  requires  limbs  of 
particular  dimensions  and  forms  ; — and  muscles  adapt- 
ed to  set  these  limbs  in  motion  ;  and  alimentary  ap- 
paratus to  support  these  muscles  in  life  and  vigor.  It 
is  a  case  within  our  comprehension  :  only  a  few  plain 
principles  of  contrivance  happen  here  to  be  involved, 
similar,  for  the  most  part,  to  those  we  are  familiar 
with  in  mechanism  of  our  own ;  and  here  we  discover 
the  most  consummate  evidence  of  design  usefully  and 
benevolently  directed.  We  are  acquainted  with  the 
mechanical  powers.  We  understand  the  nature  of  a 
pulley.  We  Jcnow  what  is  to  be  done,  if  it  is  proper 
the  eye  should  be  drawn  upward  or  downward,  or  in 
this  direction  or  in  that,  for  the  purposes  of  vision. 
We  find  it  is  done.  If  the  human  body  is  to  be 
nourished  by  food,  which  food  must  be  divided  and 
ground  to  fit  it  for  the  digestive  organs  ;  here  is  a 
case  within  our  certain  comprehension,  in  the  end  and 
in  the  means ;  and  we  can  unhesitatingly  pronounce, 
that  teeth  are  a  necessary  provision.  We  find  them 
provided  ;  and  in  every  animal  perfectly  adapted  to 


208  '  CONCLUSION. 

the  nature  of  the  animars  food.  Here  is  a  fitness  of 
which  we  are  competent  to  judge,  because  it  happens 
to  be  too  simple, — involves  too  few  principles,  for  us 
to  mistake. 

When  the  nature  of  the  case  brings  it  fully  within 
our  knowledge,  the  arrangements  we  discover  are  in- 
variably perfect.  And  when  we  consider  how  nume- 
rous, how  countless  are  the  instances  of  this  descrip- 
tion, through  all  the  multitude  of  living  and  organized 
beings  ;  through  all  the  complexity  of  their  structure ; 
through  all  the  adaptations  of  their  powers,  physical 
and  instinctive,  to  their  subsistence  and  comfort ; 
through  so  many  cases  of  wise  and  benevolent  ar- 
rangement in  the  vast  compass  of  nature ;  we  cannot 
reflect  without  the  profoundest  admiration,  that  in 
proportion  as  our  knowledge  of  any  thing  in  creation 
approaches  to  certainty,  our  perceptions  of  Divine 
wisdom  and  benevolence  are  satisfactory  and  uncloud- 
ed. What  an  argument  for  suffering  no  limitation  of 
our  trust  and  adoration  towards  that  High  and  Holy 
One,  of  whom,  and  through  whom,  and  to  whom  are 
all  things  I  What  a  reason  for  bowing  with  devout 
and  cheerful  acquiescence  to  the  precept  of  our  Sav- 
iour, who  suggested  the  same  idea  in  commanding  his 
disciples,  as  to  all  future  events,  and  all  things  occa- 
sioning tjieir  solicitude,  to  confide  in  that  Being  who 
had  so  perfectly  exhibited  his  goodness  in  cases  with- 
in their  certain  knowledge  and  actual  observation  ! 
Behold  the  fowls  of  the  air :  for  they  sow  not,  nei- 
ther do  they  reap,  nor  gather  into  barns ;  yet  your 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  209 

heavenly  Father  feedeth  them.      Are  ye   not  much 
better  than  they. 

To  say,  that  in  all  the  innumerable  contrivances  of 
nature  there  are  prevalent  marks  of  a  merciful  and  be- 
nevolent author,  is  to  pronounce  that  all  his  intentions 
are  gracious ;  as  what  is  prevalent  in  his  acts,  must 
determine  the  nature  of  his  intentions,  and  be  regarded 
as  the  decisive  indication  of  his  moral  character.  Tlie 
general  impress,  therefore,  of  beneficent  design,  so 
legibly  stamped  upon  the  operations  of  Providence,  is 
of  itself  sufficient  to  demonstrate,  that  the  goodness  of 
Omnipotence  is  every  where  exhibited,  and  that  all 
its  designs  are  good.  "  Nor,  (as  it  has  been  truly 
said  by  a  most  devout  and  delightful  writer),  is  the 
design  abortive.  The  air,  the  earth,  the  water,  teem 
with  delighted  existence.  In  a  spring  morn,  or  a  sum- 
mer evening,  on  whichever  side  I  turn  my  eye,  my- 
riads of  happy  beings  crowd  upon  my  view.  The  in- 
sect youth  are  on  the  wing.  Swarms  of  new  born 
flies  are  trying  their  pinions  in  the  air.  Their  spor- 
tive motions,  their  wanton  mazes,  their  gratuitous  ac- 
tivity, their  continual  change  of  place  without  use  or 
purpose,  testify  their  joy,  and  the  exultation  they  feel 
in  their  lately  discovered  faculties.  At  this  moment, 
in  every  given  moment  of  time,  how  many  myriads  of 
animals  are  eating  their  food,  gratifying  their  appe- 
tites, ruminating  in  their  holes,  accomplishing  their 
wishes,  pursuing  their  pleasures,  taking  their  pastimes. 
In  each  individual,  how  many  things  must  go  right, 
for  it  to  be  at  ease  ;  yet  how  large  a  proportion  out 
s2 


210  CONCLUSION. 

of  every  species  is  so  in  every  assignable  instant. 
In  our  own  species,  the  preponderance  of  good  over 
evil,  of  health,  for  example,  and  ease,  over  pain  and 
distress,  is  evinced  by  the  very  notice  which  calami- 
ties excite.  What  inquiries  does  the  sickness  of  our 
friends  produce  ?  What  conversation  their  misfortunes  ? 
This  shows  that  the  common  course  of  things  is  in  fa- 
vor of  happiness  ;  that  happiness  is  the  rule — misery 
the  exception.  Were  the  order  reversed,  our  atten- 
tion w^ould.be  called  to  examples  of  health  and  com- 
petency, instead  of  disease  and  want.  One  great 
cause  of  our  insensibility  to  the  goodness  of  the  Crea- 
tor is  the  very  extensiveness  of  his  bounty." 

T.  Do  we  discover  any  arrangement  of  Provi- 
dence that  seems  intended  for  the  production  of  mere 
pain  or  unhappiness  ? 

A.  No  one,  it  is  believed,  will  profess  to  be  ac- 
quainted with  such  an  instance.  Evil,  as  such,  never 
appears  an  end  in  any  thing  in  nature,  with  which  we 
are  acquainted.  In  describing  a  particular  tool  you 
would  hardly  say,  this  is  made  to  cut  the  mechanic's 
hand  ;  though  from  inattention  in  the  use  of  it,  this 
mischief  may  often  occur.  "  But  if  one  had  occasion 
to  describe  instruments  of  torture,  he  would  say,  this 
engine  is  to  extend  the  sinews  ;  this  to  dislocate  the 
joints;  this  to  break  the  bones;  this  to  scorch  the 
soles  of  the  feet.  Here  pain  and  misery  are  the  very 
objects  of  contrivance.  Now,  nothing  of  this  sort  is 
ever  to  be  found  in  the  works  of  nature.  We  never  dis- 
cover a  train  of  contrivance  to  bring  about  an  evil  pur- 
pose.   No  anatomist  ever  discovered  a  train  of  organi- 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  211 

zation  calculated  to  produce  pain  and  disease  ;  or  in 
explaining  the  parts  of  the  human  body,  ever  said, 
this  is  to  irritate ;  this  to  inflame  ;  this  gland  is  to  se- 
crete the  humor  which  forms  the  gout."  If  he  is  ig- 
norant of  a  useful  purpose,  he  considers  his  knowledge 
as  yet  imperfect ;  and  pursues  his  inquiries  with  the 
fullest  confidence  that  there  is  yet  a  discovery  to  be 
made. 

T.  If  there  are  so  many  demonstrations  of  benefi- 
cent design  in  the  works  of  Divine  Providence,  which 
we  are  able  to  perceive  and  understand  ;  and  there  is 
no  instance  where  a  want  of  design  can  be  proved ; 
and  none  in  which  evil,  as  such,  appears  to  be  the  ob- 
ject of  design  ; — what  is  the  proper  view  to  be  taken 
of  any  of  the  seeming  ills  of  life  which  God  has  ap- 
pointed to  us  ? 

A.  Revelation  declares  they  are  intended  for  a 
wise  and  beneficial  purpose  ;  and  any  other  conclu- 
sion would  be  infinitely  unreasonable.  It  would  be 
infinitely  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  any  thing  in 
Providence  should  want  a  useful  design  even  though 
it  be  pain  and  affliction,  when  we  see  the  evidence 
there  is  of  a  wise  and  benevolent  Being  whose  tender 
mercies  are  over  all  his  works. 

T.  But  what  say  you  to  such  evils  as  the  vices 
and  sins  of  which  men  are  guilty  ? 

A.  These  are  not  the  evils  of  Providence  ;  but 
they  are  those  which  men  bring  upon  themselves 
by  their  own  misconduct,  thwarting  the  designs  of 
their  being,  and  the  kind  purposes  of  their  nature. 


212  CONCLUSION. 

T.  Wherein  do  you  perceive  in  nioral  evils  any 
thivarting  of  a  natural  design  ? 

A.  God  has  made  inconvenience  and  suffering,  of 
some  description  or  other,  the  regular  and  natural 
consequence  of  all  criminal  and  excessive  indulgences 
of  our  passions  ;  and  this  proves  a  natural  design  has 
been  violated, — as  much,  as  the  pain  which  arises 
from  bending  a  limb  contrary  to  the  natural  direction 
of  the  joint,  evinces  that  the  limb  was  not  intended 
to  be  bent  in  that  manner.  Besides,  our  Creator 
has  placed  reason  and  conscience  in  our  breasts, 
which  always  oppose  the  commission  of  conscious 
vice  and  misconduct  : — and  we  feci  that  they  are  by 
right  the  presiding  governers  of  our  behavior.  We 
are  as  naturally  sensible  of  it  as  of  any  truth  what- 
ever. 

T.  But  Providence  has  subjected  the  best  to 
suffer  in  this  world  ;  and  oftentimes  it  is  their  virtu- 
ous feelings  which  occasion  their  troubles  ;  as  when 
they  suffer  under  the  reproaches  and  ill  treatment  of 
bad  men  ;  or  from  the  strength  of  their  virtuous  at- 
tachments to  other  sufferers.  They  are  subjected 
also  to  death  ;  and,  what  it  is  impossible  to  overlook  or 
conceal,  the  more  they  cultivate  their  minds,  and  follow 
the  impulse  of  those  noble  capacities  with  which  God 
has  endowed  them,  the  more  unhappy  do  they  feel 
it,  to  be  denied  the  opportunity  of  continued  ad- 
vancement in  improvement  and  usefulness  ;  the  more 
they  know  of  their  Creator,  the  more  they  adore  and 
love  him,  the  more  terrible  to  think  of  being  separa- 
rated  from  him   forever.     What  design  can  you  dis- 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  213 

cover  here  ? — What  design  in  such  a  constitution 
as  this  ;  that  the  tetter  use  we  make  of  our  minds, 
the  more  does  this  life  appear  too  short  and  inade- 
quate to  our  feelings  ? 

A.  The  system  of  Providence  would  lead  us  to 
conclude  from  what  we  generally  see,  that  capacities 
are  not  given  in  vain.  They  are  not  made  systemat- 
ically and  as  a  settled  course  to  stop  before  they . 
have  finished  their  work,  and  reached  their  highest 
consummation.  Generally,  the  animal  being  does 
not  perish  till  its  powers  are  perfectly  developed  ; 
nor  the  tree  till  it  has  reached  its  height.  If  there- 
fore man  has  capacities  of  higher  improvement  than 
the  present  world  unfolds,  the  presumption  on  natural 
principles  is,  that  this  life  is  to  be  succeeded  by  an- 
other. We  see  the  best  of  the  creatures  of  God, 
universally  stopped  in  their  career  ;  stopped  by  infir- 
mity and  death  ;  stopped  in  their  progress ;  stopped 
at  the  period  of  their  most  pleasing  and  rapid  prog- 
ress. Not  so  with  the  brute.  His  powers  have  no 
progress  that  we  know  of  He  has  reached  the  end 
of  his  faculties,  to  all  appearance,  long  before  he 
dies.  The  plant  has  reached  the  termination  of  its 
vegetative  powers  of  bloom  and  of  fruit  bearing,  be- 
fore it  decays.  But  man  is  stopped.  The  tree  falls 
in  mid  vigor.     The  sun  goes  down  at  noon. 

T.  But  is  there  any  natural  example  to  corres- 
pond to  the  delightful  and  glorious  anticipation  of 
a  renewed  period  of  existence  for  those  capacities  of 
improvement,  which  in  this  life  are  arrested  in  their 
progress  ? 


214  CONCLUSION. 

A.  The  examples  are  often  before  us. — -The  seed 
has  capacities  of  further  advancement,  that  is,  of 
shooting  up  into  a  tree,  when  it  apparently  dies  in 
the  earth  ;  and  the  consequence  is,  the  death  is  only 
apparent.  The  tree  actually  succeeds.  The  worm 
has  capacities  of  further  advancement,  of  advancing 
from  the  earth  to  the  air  ;  and  the  consequence  is,  it 
leaves  its  shroud,  and  soars  upwards  from  a  state  of 
seeming  insensibility,  to  enjoy  the  more  beautiful  ex- 
istence of  a  butterfly.  Prior  to  experience,  neither 
of  these  events  would  have  been  anticipated.  We 
see  a  butterfly  in  a  maggot  no  more  distinctly  than 
we  see  an  immortal  spirit  in  mortal  man. 

T.  But  in  so  important  a  case  might  we  not  have 
expected  some  further  evidence  ? 

A.  That  evidence  we  enjoy  in  the  Revelation 
hy  Jesus  Christ,  who  has  brought  life  and  immortality 
to  light. 

T.  And  what  has  Christ  Jesus  taught  us  respect- 
ing a  future  life  ? 

A.  That  it  shall  be  a  state  of  recompense  accord- 
ing to  our  characters.  He  has  told  us  that  the  pres- 
ent life  is  a  state  intended  to'  prepare  us  by  the 
knowledge  of  God  we  here  acquire,  the  holy  dispo- 
sitions here  formed  in  our  souls,  and  the  practice  of 
piety  and  virtue,  for  a  state  of  heavenly  felicity  ;  and 
that'  if  we  love  wickedness,  neglect  our  minds,  and 
hearts,  and  abuse  the  talents  which  God  has  given  us, 
— the  consequence  will  be  misery  hereafter. 

T.  Do  you  see  any  thing  in  the  present  course 
of  Divine  Providence  in  this  life,  to  correspond  to  this 


NATURAL    THEOLOGY.  215 

representation  which  Jesus  Christ  has  given  us  of 
a  state  of  recompense  ? 

A.  Yes.  In  the  general  providence  of  God  child- 
hood has  very  much  the  same  relation  to  mature  age, 
as  this  world  has  to  the  world  to  come«  If  we  fail 
to  govern  our  passions  when  we  are  young,  they 
usually  govern  us,  and  render  us  miserable  in  the  after 
stages  of  life.  If  we  then  form  virtuous  and  religious 
habits,  cultivate  our  minds,  and  improve  our  opportu- 
nities aright,  we  are  sure  to  rewarded  in  the  effect 
produced  upon  our  characters,  feehngs,  and  happiness 
in  the  future  periods  of  our  days.  The  good  and 
the  evil  are  placed  before  the  child;  and  as  his 
choice  and  conduct  shall  be,  so,  in  the  general  course 
of  divine  providence,  are  manhood  and  old  age  re- 
munerated.— Not  so,  with  any' other  being  but  man. 
It  is  not  left  with  the  chicken  to  choose  whether  or 
not  it  will  follow  its  instincts,  so  as  to  become 
a  happy  bird,  when  it  has  grown  up.  In  ouv present 
existence,  therefore,  there  is  a  distinction  from  that 
of  inferior  animals,  similar  to  what  revelation  teach- 
es us  to   expect  with  reference  to  a.  future  state. 

T.  And  now,  what  ought  to  be  your  endeavor 
and  your  prayer  ? 

A.  What  I  desire  to  ask  is  that  mine  may  ever  be, 
"  &y  patient  continuance  in  well  doing  to  seeJc  for 
glory,  honor  and  immortality.  " 


n\0h 


:^^^M^;p;iiK^m' 


14  DAY  USE 

'^^  TO  DBSK  PROM  WHICH  BORKOWBO 

lOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  th*.  iac»  ^ 


-&£tiSm^_Om_A^l  No.  642-3405 


~jDint'e8''rf«- 


(H5067sl0)476B 


.  General  Library 

University  of  CaUforr 

Berkeley 


1 


vci5;5157 


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